


The Son of Alphard

by Literatekatana



Series: There's an American [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, F/M, Marauders era, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-28 14:32:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 144,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13906059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Literatekatana/pseuds/Literatekatana
Summary: I decided a long time ago that I would avoid pretentious people. Unfortunately, that includes about half the student body at Hogwarts, and a majority of the world beyond it. You've probably heard a lot about Lian Kowalski by now. You might think she's pretty amazing, and she is. But in my own, unbiased opinion, she's only half of the story. Welcome to the good part.





	1. Not Slytherin

_My story is not for the faint of heart. Sometimes I can barely stand it myself but, it is what it is. My earliest memory is running through a forest somewhere, the sunlight dappled through a leafy canopy as I laughed with...someone. Now, the few times I asked Father about this memory, it was dismissed. According to him, I have never run through the woods, barefoot or otherwise. Turns out my first memory was a dream, or I so was taught to believe._

_I was considered an abnormal child, because my magic manifested itself early. While my cousin didn’t start displaying signs of blowing up furniture or changing the color of the house-elves for his own amusement for another two years: at the age of five, I could move things without touching them, know things without hearing them, seeing them. My father saw to it that my education began straight-away, and thus my childhood was stolen, buried beneath tutors and lessons. A prodigy, I was going to be the promised child that would turn the wizarding world on its head._

_Don’t get me wrong, they were right about that...just, perhaps not in the way they envisioned._

_I was born on June 18th, 1959, and later that same year my second favorite cousin was dropped into the world. We weren’t close until our school days, but that was more of an adult choice than our own. When your elders consider themselves royalty, you might imagine wealth and status, but for a small child, it means solitude. I mean, I met other children my age, but they all believed the pureblood propaganda in ways I couldn’t convince myself were true. I learned early on that everyone had at least two faces, the one they showed you and the one that appeared the moment your back was turned. In the years I’d come to observe my aunt, I’d learn that she had at least forty-seven different faces. As a result of all this; I had trouble growing close to others in general._

_My father didn’t want to send me to school, (he had a very specific vision for my magical education,) so he tried handling me on my own. I, on the other hand, had a very specific vision for my life and it involved leaving the house every once in awhile. On my twelfth birthday, he and I agreed that attending a proper wizarding school was the best course of action for the both of us. And so, I was enrolled alongside my second favorite cousin, Sirius._

_At least there was one person I could count on while I was away. It didn’t matter that together we’d be the oldest first years to attend Hogwarts that year, we were already old in soul, as a result of the way we’d been raised. I don’t think it really occurred to either of us that we could think differently...not until we stepped on board that scarlet steam engine and met one James Potter, that is._

_But I’m getting ahead of myself. My story doesn’t actually start with me. It started a long time ago, with a man by the name of Sirius Black, way back in the 1800s. _Just keep that in mind for later, I promise it's important.__

_I’ve stalled long enough, I suppose. You’ve probably heard a lot about a girl named Lian Kowalski by now. You might think she’s pretty amazing, and she is. But in my own, unbiased opinion, she’s only half of the story. Welcome to the good part:_  
  


**Chapter 1**

_Not Slytherin_

 

“I told you Bella was lying,” I said, triumphantly claiming the empty compartment J. “First years _can_ get their own compartment.”

“Unless this is the haunted car, and we should be expecting an inferi any minute now.” Sirius followed in after me, his hands thrust deep in his pockets. The both of us were already changed into the school uniform, though the train had yet to depart from Kings Cross station. Father had said something about important first impressions--while Aunt Walburga didn’t want her eldest looking like a common Muggle.

“Inferi are dead bodies enchanted--you’re thinking of a poltergeist.” I corrected him, tugging on the window shade so I didn’t have to watch the platform outside, or more importantly--so nobody could watch me. A minute later however, Sirius had tugged it back open, claiming the seat beside me.

“You never know, there could be an enchanted dead body under this very seat,” he whispered eerily, patting the cushioned bench. “One good bout of flatulence is all it would take to wake him up!”

A rather obnoxious laugh caught us off guard, and we looked around to watch the boy with tanned skin and bed-hair strut into the compartment. “I didn’t know farting could wake the dead--remind me to mind my lactose before entering a graveyard.”

Sirius grinned wickedly. “Or not.”

They shared another laugh before the boy remembered his manners. “I’m James Potter. Who are you?” _Well, most of his manners, anyway._

“I’m Sirius, and this is my cousin, Pollux,” Sirius gestured towards me vaguely, knowing full-well that I wasn’t about to introduce myself. I raised a single eyebrow at the so-called James and barely inclined my head.

“You’re both first years?” James glanced at our school robes, before making eye contact again. I found his hazel eyes terribly invasive, as they never seemed to settle on just one place. He was very hyper. I didn’t like him. “I only ask because Pollux looks older.”

“Only by five months,” Sirius snorted indignantly. “But yes, we’re both first years. You as well?” He jerked his head to the spot beside him, adding, “Have a seat.”

“Thanks.” And so I watched this friendship begin to form. It wasn’t long before they started cracking jokes, adding onto the ridiculous theory that farting over dead people woke them up. Just as the whistle blew, indicating that the train was about to depart, I opened the window and stuck my head out, catching one last glimpse of my father before steam enveloped most of the people waving on the platform.

My father did not wave. He stood stoically beside my aunt, who had a firm grip on Regulus’s shoulder, the three of them watching the train, finding my face, and in unison wore the haughtiest expression known to wizardkind. In the Black family, that was practically a hug, so I mirrored it right back at them. Sirius was too busy with his new best friend to bother, not that he would anyway. Maybe being in Slytherin would be good for him. Every member of our family had been, sorting was merely a formality on some level.

I ducked back inside as the train began to pull away, and found two other occupants in the compartment. Also first years, judging by their size and behavior, which was indicative of childhood or neighborhood friends. After a few minutes observation, I concluded that they were both of these things. The girl looked miserable for some reason, while the boy kept trying to cheer her up. Something about her older sister hating her for leaving… _Ah. She’s muggleborn._ I turned my attention to the boy with the unwashed hair and the black hole eyes. He was the kind of kid who would grow into his looks, _hopefully._ His nose belonged to a man thirty years his senior, while the slight shadows beneath his eyes were indicative of stress levels beyond age. He was not the result of a happy home, but then, Sirius and I weren’t exactly the poster children for healthy families, given that we were related at least six different ways.

“Can ghosts fart?” Sirius asked James, who sniggered loudly. _Five different ways._ I was saved from having to listen to anything else on flatulence by black hole eyes speaking loud enough for the rest of the train car to hear.

“You’d better be in Slytherin.” 

“Slytherin?” James, who had not paid the pair much attention previously, looked around at the word. “Who wants to be in Slytherin? I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?” he asked Sirius. 

“My whole family have been in Slytherin,” he said, not smiling. 

“Blimey,” said James, “and I thought you seemed all right!” 

Sirius grinned. “Maybe I’ll break the tradition.”  _What? No. If I’m going to Slytherin you have to come with me!_ “Where are you heading, if you’ve got the choice?” 

James lifted an invisible sword. “‘Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!’ Like my dad.” The sullen faced boy made a small, disparaging noise. James turned on him. “Got a problem with that?” 

“No,” the slight sneer said otherwise. “If you’d rather be brawny than brainy-” 

“Where are you hoping to go, seeing as you’re neither?” interjected Sirius  . The wild haired boy roared with laughter, while I rolled my eyes. I kinda felt sorry for the other boy-he’d signed himself up for that one. The redheaded girl looked at the pair in dislike.

“Come on, Severus, let’s find another compartment.” 

“Ooooooo. . .” Sirius and James  imitated her lofty voice; James tried to trip Severus as he passed. 

“See ya, Snivellus!”  Sirius called as the pair slammed the compartment door shut. In hindsight, I was grateful that we’d gotten past fart jokes, but I was occupied with a more pressing issue at the time.

“You don’t want to be in Slytherin?” I asked, speaking for the first time since James had entered the compartment. Sirius looked around at me, and only I saw the flash of guilt in his grey eyes.

“Well… no. Do you?” He added before I could give the expected answer our family had drilled into our skulls from the time we’d learned to talk. “Honestly, do you want to be in Slytherin--not what Uncle wants, or my mum demands--what do _you_ , Pollux Black, want?”

“I want the chance to represent my family, because though I’m not fond of Aunt Burgie and cousin Bella, I’m proud to be my father’s son, and I know that being in any other house will only bring him shame.” The answer came automatically, I barely had to think because I honestly felt that way… but part of me knew, even then, that my father was less concerned about the crest I would wear for seven years, and more about the magic I would wield for the rest of my life. When the hat hit my head, it wouldn’t be about my family, it would be about me.

And I wasn’t sure what to expect.

* * *

 

Around midday, a plump witch pushing a cart full of snacks and sweets stopped by and sold James about half her stock, and the other half went to Sirius. There was more food in our compartment then space to sit, and it was around then I registered my need to use the facilities. Finding the train bathroom wasn’t nearly as difficult as navigating the many cars as they jerked and jumped along the tracks, while kids from ages eleven to seventeen ran from compartment to compartment trying to locate their friends. On my way back to J, a mousy looking kid was practically chased out of a compartment, where he crumpled to a heap before me on the floor. If this had happened in the street, and I’d been walking with my father or my older cousins, he’d have been kicked to the side or trampled.

But I had no such company, it was only us. Crouching down, I gripped his upper arm and raised him up. His light brown eyes widened, and it occurred to me later that he expected to be struck. “Stand up. What happened?”

Shaking slightly, the boy spoke to my feet. “Th-they d-d-didn’t want t-to share their compart-t-m-ment with m-me.”

“Indeed? How old were they?” I asked, glancing through the window at the group. If I had to guess, I’d imagine they were all on Engorgement charms--there was no way they were still young enough to attend school there. In my twelve year old memory, they each looked to be about fourteen feet tall.

“S-s-ixth y-years I think.” He stammered.

“Hm. You’d best find another seating arrangement then,” I said off-handedly. Looking him over, I noticed that he was very skinny, as in, his skin hugged his bones, giving him a gaunt, desperate appearance. He had a few scratches on his cheek, fresh ones, as though he owned a feral rabbit. “What’s your name?”

Still speaking to my feet, something I was technically used to as a Black, the boy said, “R-Remus. Lupin.”

I coughed into my shoulder, barely containing my impatience. I hadn’t lived for very long, but I couldn’t imagine meeting someone more submissive than this little fellow. “Sit up straight,” I commanded, emulating my father. “You don't want anyone to run you over on your first day. I'm Pollux R. Black, and you would do well to remember my name.” I waited for the boy to meet my eyes before adding. “That's how you make an impressive introduction.  Don't mumble at people, or they’ll mistake your shyness for fragility.”

“R-right,” said Remus, bobbing his head up and down. And there--for the first time, I saw a hardness grow in his eyes.

“Come sit with me. There’s only my cousin, his git friend and more candy than space to sit, but who knows, you might enjoy that kind of thing.” Without waiting for his agreement, I gripped his arm again and pulled him along behind me. Sirius and James were exchanging chocolate frog cards when I slid the door open and shoved Remus Lupin inside. They barely looked up, but they didn’t object either. Remus bobbed his head and tentatively sat down with me on the opposite side. I tossed him a chocolate cauldron, which I personally preferred because they didn’t try to run away until you bit their ladle’s off.

I thought the journey would pass in relative comfort from that point forward, unfortunately we received a visitor almost an hour later. Cissy looked down her nose at us, a pretty sixteen year old girl until you looked into her eyes, which, though grey and glasslike, were icy and unwelcome. She had the classic aristocratic posture, and was checking to see whether Sirius and I were associating with the proper people. James was a pureblood, anyone could see--all the Potters were. In fact, he was probably our second cousin. Cissy had barely looked in the compartment before she latched her unforgiving eyes on Remus, who seemed to freeze the moment she did.

“Hello Cissy,” I said, if only to try and break the tension. Sirius had stopped talking the moment she appeared, and only by the familiarity in my voice did James and Remus have any idea that she was a relation of some sort. “How can we help you?”

She flicked her eyes towards me for a brief interlude, allowing Remus a chance to breathe before fixing him with her penetrating stare again. “Just wanted to see if you two were alright,” she lied sweetly. “You don’t want to be associating with the wrong sort, you know.”

Remus nibbled on his chocolate--he’d eaten quite a bit of it in the last hour and was only just beginning to show signs of relaxing when Cissy showed up. Honestly, if he didn’t grow a spine soon, he wouldn’t last long.

“We’re aware, Cissy,” Sirius drawled, putting as much boredom as he could manage in his voice. Cissy looked around at him, glanced at James one last time before turning to look at me.

“Well… don’t say I didn’t try.” She said loftily, before sliding the door closed.

James exhaled loudly. “Who was that witch?”

“Another cousin of ours,” Sirius explained. “Her name is Narcissa and I’ll give you one guess which House she belongs to.”

“Are all your family like her?” James asked curiously.

“Worse,” answered Sirius, and I knew he was thinking of Bella, because I certainly was.

“Well, you must be the black sheep of the family,” James declared happily, nodding at Sirius and myself. “Get it? Black? Black sheep?”

Remus snorted into his chocolate, blushed and buried himself in his dusty copy of the _Standard Book of Spells: Level One_.

Sirius and James fell into conversation on Quidditch, while I spent the rest of the trip wondering why I insisted on public school not three months ago. I suppose I’d forgotten how tiresome people could be.

Night fell, and the silhouette of the castle became visible through the window. I think I fell asleep at some point during the trip because I didn’t remember watching the sunset, and I noticed a slight change in the way Remus held himself. Still timid, yet I sensed a certain rigidity to him now, and it was a tad unsettling.

The minute the train began to slow to a halt, the four of us ditched compartment J to hover near the door. I might have pushed Sirius onto the platform before the train technically stopped, but when later accused I denied it, and been rightly indignant when James did the same to me.

“Firs’ years this way!” A gruff voice called out of the dark, somehow through the white noise of the hundreds of students evacuating and moving across the platform. I squinted until I caught sight of a large, swinging lantern making its way through. It was held aloft by a huge man with a wild beard and mane covering everything but his twinkling black eyes and a squashed nose. “Firs’ years with me!”

“Hiya Hagrid!” James called, waving his arm and moving forward through the crowd to meet the man. Sirius was right behind him, so Remus and I had little choice but to follow. “It is Hagrid, right? My dad told me about you!”

“Tha’s right,” answered the beastly man. “Yeh wouldn’t happen ter be Charlus’s boy, now would yeh?”

James beamed so brightly, I anticipated his head to explode momentarily. _Tick, tick, boom._

A small gathering of first years made their way toward the man and his lantern, and once Hagrid was convinced all of them were present, he led us towards the edge of a black lake, out along a pier where several small boats were docked. I claimed the boat nearest the front, followed by Sirius, Remus and James. Hagrid claimed his own boat, and the small fleet set off across the lake.

“My dad says there's a giant squid living in here!” exclaimed James, leaning so far over the edge of the boat, I wondered whether he'd capsize the boat, or if his glasses would slide off and be lost to the squid.

“I heard from one of my cousins that a whole city of merpeople live at the bottom.” Sirius said, before grabbing a fistful of James’s robes and tugging him back into his seat. He then glanced back at me. “Did Andi ever tell you that story?”

“Before or after she started dating the muggleborn?”

Sirius wrinkled his nose at me. “What does it matter?”

“It doesn't, I was just wondering how you felt; whether or not you sided with Aunt Burgie and Uncle Cy. “ I sniffed, turning my gaze on the brightly lit castle as it came into view.

Before long, Hagrid was leading us up a grand staircase, only to pass us off to a stern-faced, older witch. She wore emerald green robes and had her hair pulled back into a tight knot at the base of her neck.

“Welcome to Hogwarts!” She called to the group of first years. She then proceeded to explain the structure and rules of Hogwarts, house points, and everything a student would need to know, if their parents were incapable of explaining it all to them already. I knew most of it from the older family members, cousins, uncles and aunts, grandparents, all of which (like Sirius had said) had been in Slytherin. The witch disappeared after delivering the welcome speech, and in the lull she left behind, the group of first years began to fidget.

A boy with well-groomed hair and obviously new robes--classic signs of a pureblood--was looking around at the rest of us with an accusing expression on his face. I watched as he slowly turned on the spot until his eyes found Remus, who was standing stiffly in my shadow. In a loud voice I found more unnecessary than James Potter’s laugh, he said, “Are you a mudblood?”

If he had said this to the Remus Lupin I’d met earlier on the train, it wouldn’t have been exciting, in fact I might’ve felt rather aggressive towards the other boy in question. But he was saying it now, to the rigid, irritable-looking Remus who gazed coolly back, despite the whispers and murmurs that filled the entryway. Without so much as a blink, Remus replied, “Half-blood, pureblood, muggle-born; whatever I am doesn’t matter--I still know more about magic than a posh git like you.”

I bowed my head to hide the grin that was breaking across my face, and out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Sirius and James looking absolutely delighted. Before anything else could happen, the stern witch had returned. “We’re ready for you.”

The double doors opened into a magnificent hall, just as Andi had once described it to me. On some level it was a bit smaller than I’d made it out to be in my head, considering it was half the size of the grandroom in Black Manor. I sensed it was wise to not mention that fact aloud, even if it was absolutely true.

The four long tables were there, not that I expected them to be in another part of the castle, with the banner of each house waving overhead, scarlet for Gryffindor, cobalt for Ravenclaw, emerald for Slytherin, and golden for Hufflepuff. At the end of the hall was the staff table, and just before the staff was a tall stool, upon which perched a moldy old hat. The first years came to a halt just before it, standing in a kind of group on display for the returning students and the teachers. I couldn’t be sure, but I got the feeling that everyone was focused on the ugly hat, and seconds later I realized why.

It’s brim opened like a mouth, and it began to sing in a carrying voice for all to hear:

_Welcome to the Sorting_

_A ceremony beheld by all_

_Just remember you’re nothing special_

_The moment you leave this Hall_

 

_For it is together you find your strength_

_Mark my words for they are true_

_This tradition can’t go on without me_

_Sortings? I’ve seen a few_

 

_In here you are united_

_And however much I wish it could last_

_Out there you are divided_

_In future, present, and past_

 

_Yet it’s not my job to scold_

_Indeed, my responsibility is simple_

_I sit on your heads and sort you out_

_Whether your abilities are small or triple_

 

_You might belong in Slytherin_

_Where you’ll find your real friends_

 

_Or perhaps in Hufflepuff_

_Where loyalties never end_

 

_You might find purpose in Gryffindor_

_Where dwell the brave and daring_

 

_Or maybe the solution is Ravenclaw_

_Where knowledge won’t be sparing_

 

_So try me on, if you wish to know_

_For yourself where you belong_

_I’ll have a look inside your head_

_I’ve never yet been wrong!_

* * *

 

As the last note rang out across the Great Hall, and the brim closed itself back up, the rest of the assembled people applauded as though the hat deserved to know that it had done a great job rhyming. _Wait, is this a regular thing? Do I have to sit through seven years of this?_

Before I could ask someone who might have an answer, the stern-faced witch, McGonagall, proceeded to call out names from a long roll of parchment she might have conjured from thin air, or pulled from one of her magnificent sleeves, I couldn’t say.

“Aikin, Davis!” became a Hufflepuff right off the bat, and “Albring, Merlyn!” followed suit. As a point of fact, it wasn’t long before “Black, Pollux!” and I moved forward to sit on the stool, turning to face the rest of the students wearing the classic proud and haughty expression as was expected of my family. I actually had to try, meanwhile Sirius’s face just fell that way, it was very vexing at times. Keeping my posture as aristocratic as possible, I stared down my nose at the entire hall before the moldy old hat was placed over half my head, or so it seemed because suddenly all I could see was the brown fabric that fell over my eyes.

I know the song indicated that my head was about to be examined, but I was not prepared for the little voice that entered my brain.

_Hmm. . .curious. Plenty of talent, a desire to be left alone, and yet. . .how you value loyalty._

I furrowed my brow at that; I couldn’t recall overvaluing loyalty, not from my family members or anyone. Quite the opposite, if the train ride was anything to go by--was the hat reading my mind or my future? Maybe wanting followers or whatever was a Slytherin quality I hadn’t fully grown into just yet.

_Not Slytherin._

My mouth suddenly became like the Sahara desert, completely devoid of moisture, but the hat wasn’t finished commenting on whatever it saw inside me.

 _A mind geared towards learning and growth. . .and though you carry a certain disregard for rule and law. . . still you belong in. . ._ ”RAVENCLAW!”

The hat was whipped off my head as the table beneath the blue banner cheered wildly, waving me over to join. Not fully trusting my legs to carry me there, I slowly got to my feet, glancing over at Sirius whose jaw had dropped to the floor.

It couldn’t be real. I was born to be in Slytherin. I glanced at Professor McGonagall, half tempted to ask if I could be re-sorted, but the expression she was giving me said that in no way was I allowed to wear the hat once again. I’m sure if that was a thing, the ceremony would last years.

Numbly, and feeling like a colt trying to walk for the first time, I made it to the Ravenclaw table, and sat beside the boy with large cheeks who had been sorted ahead of me. He offered me his hand, while I took notice of his basset hound eyes, and said, “Damocles Belby, good to meet you.”

Now, first day at school, first person I’d talk to in my new house, it was probably a good time to make an easy friend. I wish I’d thought of that sitting beside the funny-looking kid. Taking out my shock at being sorted into the librarian house instead of my birthright, I said, “Pollux Black, I don’t give a care,” (only I didn’t say care) and turned to watch my cousin wrestle with the hat. Sirius sat about as rigidly as I did, though I couldn’t imagine for the same reason. The hat was probably telling him the opposite of what it told me, even though my assessment would fit Sirius better. _Figures,_ I thought sourly, _caring_ _hat probably mixed us up._

A moment later, the hat shouted, “GRYFFINDOR!” shocking me, Sirius, and anyone who knew anything about the most ancient and noble house of crap. But, I suppose if I was going to be a disgrace, at least someone would be there to share the load with me. Sirius ran to the table under the lion’s banner, looking stunned but happier than I’d ever seen him at home. He was the first one to be sorted into Gryffindor tonight as well, so he received a kind of heroes welcome, or that’s how it seemed. Someone clapped his back and a few people tried to ruffle his hair--and he didn’t even seem to mind, though I did catch him fixing it after the excitement had settled down.

Two Blacks at Hogwarts. Neither of them in Slytherin. I found Cissy easily, sitting like a princess at the table beneath the emerald banner, her cool gaze dancing between Sirius and myself. I caught her eye and for a moment we were locked in a kind of stare down. In that split second, all my feelings of shock vanish, and I was able to return her dismissive expression until she looked away. I could never tell what Cissy was thinking, even though my father claimed I was highly intuitive, but in that instance, I felt like I had won.

“Evans, Lily!” was in the middle of her sorting by the time my attention returned to the ceremony. It was the girl from before—whom James and Sirius had taunted on the train. I knew in my soul she wouldn’t be sorted into Slytherin like her slime-ridden friend would have hoped, and I was barely surprised when the hat put her in Gryffindor barely three seconds after the hat had been placed on her vivid red hair. She was followed by a girl named “Fortescue, Alice!” who was sorted into Hufflepuff.

I rested an elbow on the table, careful to not upset the golden table setting. Judging the remaining group of first years waiting to be sorted, I could tell that this was going to take _awhile._ I sat up slightly when “Lupin, Remus!” was called forward, but settled down again when he was sorted into Gryffindor. Few other names caught my interest, though I scoffed when I heard the name “Meadowes, Dorcas!” because it was basically the feminine form of _dork_ , and had to bite my tongue when she was sorted into Ravenclaw. She had dark, exotic features and sat across the table from me, her hair surrounding her head like a kind of frizzy halo, or sheeps wool. She caught me staring and frowned, before we both turned to watch the remainder of the sorting.

At long last, when “Zabini, Allura!” sashayed over to the Slytherin table, we were at last allowed to eat at the headmaster’s signal. The golden plates magically filled with food, and I began to load up on every good thing I could reach.

Of all the houses, I suspected Ravenclaw had received the smallest amount of first years, my suspicion confirming all the while I looked around at the other tables. Gryffindor was fit to burst and so was Slytherin, and even Hufflepuff was hard pressed for space. Beneath the blue banner sat myself, Damocles-Big-Cheeks-Belby, some bloke with thick glasses whose name I hadn’t paid attention to and another, rather plain sort of fellow. As for the girls, there was Dork Meadowes, and a slip of a girl with platinum blonde hair and wide eyes. The two of them couldn’t be more different if they tried, and that was purely by appearance standards. Was I doomed to socialize with the five of them for the next seven years?

_Not if I have a say in it. And funnily enough, I think I do._

* * *

 

Dinner didn’t drag on like the sorting ceremony had, and after the headmasters welcoming message and announcements, we were all free to go. A pair of fifth years moved to corral the seven of us before we got lost in the crowd. The girl was short, had hazel eyes and auburn hair. “First years, stick with us if you please! We’ll show you the way to the common room.” The boy at her side was tall and looked as though he’d rather be anywhere but acting as a tour guide to the new kids. “My name is Mafalda Hopkirk, and this is Xenophilius Lovegood.” she added, by way of lazy introduction. “We’re both prefects, so if at anytime this year you find yourself confused or needing guidance, please come and talk to one of us, we’d love to help!”

With that cheerful greeting, the pair of them proceeded to navigate us through the castle. I watched a group of Slytherins disappear down into the dungeons with a twinge of longing, but only a twinge. It wasn’t that I’d been looking forward to being in Slytherin, it was just that I’d planned on it. I knew nothing about what it meant to be a Ravenclaw, and wasn’t looking forward to learning. Already I didn’t belong in the house of the “wise”.

Hopkirk and Lovegood led us up the marble staircase with the Gryffindors, and I spotted Sirius and Potter through the crowd of black robes and legs. They were laughing at something hilarious, and completely ignored me. Lupin, on the other hand, glanced in my direction and twitched the corner of his mouth in what might have been a bracing smile. Or maybe he just had a nervous twitch, either way, I nodded at him once before our houses split up; the Gryffindors heading west and the Ravenclaws east.

The enchanted staircase was as massive as they’d been described to me,  and I was content to walk behind Belby because nobody had warned him about trick steps and whatnot--he got stuck three times before we moved off onto the eighth floor, through winding and befuddling corridors I was sure to get lost in at some point in time, till we began to climb a spiral staircase into a tall tower. Outside the grounds would have been dark, but around this time of month there was an almost full moon to light up what looked like a Quidditch field.

Finally we  reached a door. There was no handle and no keyhole: nothing but a plain expanse of aged wood, and a bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle. 

Hopkirk reached out a hand and knocked upon the smooth surface, which echoed down the staircase like beats of a large drum.  At once the beak of the eagle opened, but instead of a bird’s call, a soft, musical voice said , “Does a person’s name influence the person they become?”

Hopkirk glanced over her shoulder at the group, frowning thoughtfully. “What do you think?”

“What?” Belby coughed. “Isn’t there just a password?”

“No—the knocker asks a question that must be answered before it can open.” She replied with a smile. “Each if you take a minute before you try to answer.”

I stared at the eagle knocker, which I could’ve sworn was staring at me. _What was the question? ‘Does a person’s name influence the person they become?’ Well...not necessarily. Look at me, and Sirius. First day at school and already we’re defying our family name. Though mine wasn’t exactly intentional…_

Silence stretched among us for several minutes, but it was the blonde who raised a delicate hand. “Calling an owl ‘Goldfish’ doesn’t mean it has gills.”

Hopkirk looked at the knocker, which answered, “Indeed not,” before the door swung inward to admit our group. I hesitated on the threshold, thinking about the knocker--were we expected to answer the door every single time we wanted to go to bed? Someone pushed me from behind, _I was betting Dork Meadowes_ and I stumbled into the common room for the first time.

The Ravenclaw common room was a wide, circular room, airier than any  I’d seen in the castle so far. But then, it was only the first night.  Graceful arched windows punctuated the walls, which were hung with blue and bronze silks. The ceiling was domed and painted with stars, which were echoed in the midnight-blue carpet. There were tables, chairs and bookcases, and in a niche opposite the door stood a tall statue of white marble  . I guessed it was the founder: Rowena Ravenclaw. It would make a lot more sense than a random student who had been skilled in sculpting.  The statue stood beside a door which led, I guessed, to dormitories above. I strode right up to the marble woman and she seemed to look back   with a quizzical half smile on her face, beautiful yet slightly intimidating. A delicate-looking circlet had been reproduced in marble on top of her head. There were tiny words etched into it. ‘ _Wit beyond measure is man’s greatest treasure._ ’ 

“Welcome to Ravenclaw,” Hopkirk was saying to the rest. “You’ll find that the common room will become like a home to you during the school year. The dormitories are found through that door. All of your belongings have been brought up and are waiting for you.”

She winked and moved to one of the tables, sitting with a group of people her age. Lovegood shuffled away towards the dormitories, leaving the rest of us free agents.

Dork looked around at the rest of us. “I’m Dorcas. What were all your names again?”

The only other girl smiled serenely. “Mine is Pandora.”

“Quirinus,” answered the plain faced boy.

“I’m Damocles Belby.”

“You can call me Roy,” said the boy with the thick glasses.

They all looked around at me, even Belby whom I’d already slighted that evening. None of them were individuals with which I had any inclination to socialize with on a regular basis, so I fell back on the House of Black standby: “Black. Pollux Black.”

Dork raised her eyebrows, but I knew it wasn’t out of respect or amazement, rather I sensed it was condescending. “Oh. You’re an inbred.”

I remained stoic. “And?”

She shrugged. “Just wondering if you’ve got an extra toe or something due to your weak gene pool.”

“I’ve not noticed any such abnormality, but rest assured if I should locate one, you’ll be the last to know.” I coughed into my shoulder. “Now, if you’ll all excuse me…” I strode towards the dormitory staircase, but not before I heard the other girl, Pandora, speak up.

“Good night, Black Pollux Black!”

* * *

 

The dormitory was the last sort of place I never knew I needed. It was a wide, circular room with two high windows facing north and south, respectively. There were four poster beds were situated at precise intervals all around the room, the sheets were dark blue while the frame was chestnut. The floor was carpeted with strange markings (that reminded me of the ancient magic my father liked to read about while he drank an entire bottle of firewhiskey in one sitting,) and the ceiling, like the one in the great hall, had been enchanted to reflect the actual sky.

The one thing that surprised me, as I found my trunk at the foot of the bed furthest from the door, was that there were no desks in the dorm room. I expected the ‘smart house’ to have work stations everywhere, but so far it had only been open spaces and free spirited motifs. I guess I should have realized that night that everything I assumed about Ravenclaw house was about to be disproved.


	2. Toxic People

“G’morning, BPB!” Pandora plopped herself down beside me, and my mouth was full of sausage so I was unable to immediately reply. “That’s my nickname for you, by the way. Black Pollux Black is a bit of a mouthful, so I’m taking the initials route.”

I swallowed. “My name is just Pollux Black. Do not initial me.”

Pandora smiled widely. “Alright then. Pollux is a unique name; its a star, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. I was named after my grandfather.” My reply was casual. I didn’t sense any motive in Pandora. The way she talked and looked right into my eyes shouted volumes about her. I was only twelve and I’d already met plenty of wizards and witches of all ages who wanted to be on my good side, purely because of my family name. I had no patience for two-faced people, so I usually ignored them. Belby, for example, was such a person; I knew it the moment he clapped his bloodhound eyes on me. But there was something about Pandora that was simply...pure.

“Would you mind if I called you ‘Lux’?” she asked, before adding, “Will you please pass the pumpkin juice?”

“Yes,” I said, answering both questions as I passed the beverage.

“Yes you would mind, or yes you’d like to be called Lux?” she asked, grabbing a bowl and pouring herself some cereal. “‘Pollux’ doesn’t suit you, I’m sad to say. Lux is a bit better, but it’s still missing something...do you have a middle name?”

I frowned, stuck on what’d she’d said over her new question. _Pollux doesn’t suit me? Well that’s too bad, it’s my name. Has been since I could remember._ “Yes, but I don’t know you well enough to talk about it just yet.” My father had always cautioned me against giving out my full name; he said names had power, and you should guard yours carefully.

Apparently, Pandora had not been taught the same lesson. “That’s a funny thing to say. My middle name is Selene. My father wanted it to be Hecate, but my mother didn’t want to associate their only daughter with something as dark as necromancy, so they settled on Selene.”

 _Pandora Selene Twycross,_ I thought, glancing sideways at her. _It fits._ “Do you have any brothers?”

“No. You?” she grinned. “Or is that too personal a question for you?”

“As a matter of fact, it is not. And it’s just me and my father.” _And my broken Uncle, psychotic aunt and questionable cousins,_ I added silently as Sirius walked to the Gryffindor table with Potter. Over at the Slytherin table, Cissy was having a morning cup of tea.

“No mother?” Pandora was saying, reeling in my attention.

 _Too personal._ “Nope. Don’t ask, I won’t answer you.” _I couldn’t, even if I wanted to._

“Alright then. I wouldn’t want to upset you,” she turned back to her cereal, but had to add with a smug smile. “ _Lux_.”

 

* * *

 

Our first class of the morning was none other than Transfiguration, and it was to be with Slytherin House. A lot of first years had made it into the House of the cunning, ambitious, and determined, which I suppose was good, making the class a decent size. I spotted Sallow-faced Severus lurking in the back corner of the classroom right before my view was blocked by a body. The head attached to it was the boy who had spoken to Lupin only last night, asking if he’d been a mudblood. So, he’d been sorted into Slytherin afterall. Big surprise. He gazed at me expectantly, as though I was supposed to automatically know _why_ he was invading my personal space. I hadn’t known his name yesterday, and I didn’t know it today, but a small part of me knew that didn’t matter much.

“I’m Cyrus Avery,” he began, a bit too forward for my liking. “We met last year at the Ministry while our fathers spoke to each other, remember?”

The detail was specific, yet extremely vague. Also, entirely false; my father didn’t place his toe knuckle hairs within miles of the Ministry, let alone willingly dive into the bowels, and he most certainly never took me there. Avery was probably betting that my father was so well connected, being who he was, that we’d both been to the Ministry loads of times, and that I’d be too polite to admit that I didn’t actually remember meeting him, and just play along.

Boy was he in for a shock.

“Do you know, I actually don’t remember, but perhaps you could help me iron out the details and we can clear this up. How long was my father’s beard--was it dragging along the floor yet or was it still tickling his ankles?” I asked, inwardly snorting at the image of my clean-shaven father with a beard like the headmasters.

We’d captured quite a bit of attention by then and class had minutes to start, so either Avery gave up or dug his grave a little deeper. I was curious to see how desperate he was. “Oh, er, I don’t believe it was floor-length just yet. Anyway, I wanted to formally introduce myself now that we’re both at school. I also want you to know that I believe you were robbed last night. You should have been in Slytherin with us.” He gestured at his housemates, who all (sans Severus) nodded at once.

“Yes, I know, there ought to be a riot,” I dead-panned, before steering the conversation back to where I wanted it. “But I’m not sure I’ve got all the details figured out. Was it in February of last year that we met? I only remember that day so vividly because the Ministry had enchanted the entire atrium in accordance with the holiday--do you remember what they did?”

There was a hint of panic in Avery’s eyes now, and I won’t deny revelling in it, though I kept my expression serious, waiting for his reply. He couldn’t escape now; if I was picturing a specific day in February (and I had been pointedly careful to not mention which day I was thinking of--could be closer to March or possibly January; either way could have a varying result and he needed to be precise. If he was wrong, [which was inevitable because again, I had never visited the Ministry in my life,] he would be exposed before his new housemates as a compulsive liar.) He needn’t prove anything to me at this point, however. I knew now he only wanted to acquaint and befriend me because I was a member of the ancient and most noble House of Black...and I had no patience for those types of sycophants.

“Everyone please take a seat!” Professor McGonagall marched into her classroom, decidedly ending the exchange between Avery and myself. I turned away from him without another word and sat in the front, alone.

Even as the Transfiguration class progressed, I could hear whispers behind me from the Slytherins, the most reoccurring theme being the same as Avery had said: _Should’ve been in Slytherin._

Sure, technically I could have settled the affair by simply saying, “You must have me mistaken for someone else,” or something equally effective, but I didn’t regret taking the path I’d chosen. Doing so not only proved to Avery that I didn’t want to play his game, it also revealed to everyone who’d listened that Avery was something of a liar. If he’d approached me honestly, I still wouldn’t have considered his olive branch. I had plenty of people in my life who used words like ‘Mudblood’, I sure as Salazar didn’t need another.

 _Damn_ _, it’s stuff like that, isn’t it?_ I shook my hair out of my eyes. Did the hat think I wasn’t Slytherin material because I disliked the phrases used for muggleborn kids? Like they had a choice to be born that way. But it couldn’t be his vocabulary that prevented him from bringing pride to his family, _I mean, not that they’re short of it already,_ _all of Uncle Cygnus’s daughters got into Slytherin._

“Mr. Black!” I blinked up at Professor McGonagall who had appeared right in front of me so suddenly she might’ve apparated there. I certainly hadn’t noticed her prior to being called upon.

“Yes, professor?” I said, daring to look up into her stern face. I could hear nervous giggling behind me, and she silenced those with a glance.

“Would you be so kind as to participate in my class, and find time to stare into space later?” she asked shrewdly. “I asked the class at large if anyone knew the transformation formula.”

“Bodyweight, viciousness, wand power, concentration and a fifth unknown variable.” I said, without even bothering to raise my hand or preface it with the stereotypical ‘I know that!’. McGonagall’s eyebrows shot up her forehead and her lip thinned ever so slightly.

“Indeed. Perhaps next time, you could pay attention long enough to earn House Points. This time I’ll not reward you, for I shouldn’t wish to encourage daydreaming in my class.” She went to continue teaching, but I didn’t want to leave it there.

“Oh I wasn’t daydreaming,” McGonagall’s sharp eyes found mine so quickly I thought she could have cricked her neck in the process. “I was thinking about how I’ve got enough toxic people in my life without the addition of certain people in this classroom.” I could practically see my detention sentence forming on her lips so I threw caution to the wind and added, “You might say that, in the concept of the transformation formula, there’s an overbalance of viciousness and not enough of that unknown variable. As I am now, I don’t think I’d make a very good transfigurationist.”

My detention froze on the tip of her tongue as my words fell upon her ears. “Well. Build your concentration and wand power, and we’ll see about changing that.” With a decisive nod, she continued to lead the class in a tentative discussion, and I made a mental note; that Professor McGonagall wasn’t that bad.

 

* * *

 

Potion’s was next, and the classroom was so large, that it accommodated all four Houses. The Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs were already queuing outside the large door, and I spotted Sirius and Potter immediately. They were so self-involved, they didn’t seem to notice or care when the rest of us turned up in the corridor. The girl, Evans, waved at Severus, who slithered towards her immediately. The Ravenclaws remained bunched together, behind me, and I felt a desire to remove myself from them at once.

Before I could take more than three steps however, Avery the Liar decided to make an interaction. “Oy, Black! I think we need to have a conversation.”

I coughed into my shoulder before turning to look down my nose at the Slytherin boy. Sirius had stopped sniggering long enough to look around as well, and the entire host of first years had fallen quiet. “I disagree. I don’t make a habit of conversing with vermin.”

Avery’s neck and nose turned bright red, he didn’t look as put together as he had last night. “You might want to get your eyes checked then, my blood is just as pure as yours!”

“Such a shame that your quality was run over by the train yesterday,” I shrugged dismissively.

“You’ve no right to judge me, you only just met me!” _There it is._

“I thought you said you met ‘im last year, Cyrus,” said one of the Slytherin girls, frowning. She had a sturdy kind of frame, and probably grew up around a plethora of brothers--she stood like a boy, anyway. “When you and your dad was at the Ministry.”

“Shut up, Bulstrode!” Avery hissed, but it was too late. The rest of his house gave him looks full of doubt, and a few of them started to whisper behind their hands. His blush had turned a kind of purple now, and he glared back at me. “Whatever. Who would want to associate with someone like you?”

“Funny, I was about to ask the same of you,” I coughed into my shoulder again. “But then I remembered: I don’t care.” Before Avery could start foaming at the mouth or whatever his body did when he was terribly upset, I turned my back on him and moved to the front of the queue. A girl with a round face and wide brown eyes looked up at me as I came to a halt near her group. She had the Hufflepuff crest resting over her heart, and her demeanor struck me as open and friendly.

“Well, that was a bit harsh,” she told me in a lilting accent. _Irish_? “You don’t seem so bad, but I wouldn’t stir up anything during this next period, if I were you.”

“Why?” I heard myself say. I hadn’t trotted over here to have a chat; I had hoped to stand in silence while waiting for the door to open.

“The day’s still young, you might want to save your strength for the afternoon, in case you need to offend people who really deserve it,” she said with a straight-face, but I knew she was joking. I was wrong; she wasn’t open and friendly, she was cheeky.

“Fair enough. But if an opportunity presents itself, I don’t know that I can keep my mouth shut.”

The girl raised her eyebrows. “My mum taught me a sticking charm, and I reserve the right to use it on your lips if you so much as inhale rudely.”

I blinked. “Suppose the way I breathe normally is obnoxious only to you, then what?”

“Are you a mouth-breather?” I nodded seriously, and she tossed her head back with a laugh. “I’m Alice Fortescue. What’s your name?”

I opened my mouth to say it, as usual, when Pandora skipped up out of nowhere. “Call him _Lux._ Trust me, it’s much better than his actual name.” Before I could correct her, the door to the dungeon classroom opened and we were all greeted by a large belly.

“Come in! Come in, come in!” a deep voice called from somewhere beyond the bulbous stomach.

In my twelve-year old mind, Professor Slughorn looked like a sun-bleached walrus. His blond hair and moustache were fading in color, and he had more chins by himself than the entire first year class collectively. He insisted that we all sit beside someone we didn’t know already, as a kind of get-to-know-you thing. Preferring the luck of the draw, I found an empty desk near the front again and silently dared anyone to claim the seat adjacent to mine. Would it be the spawn of some pureblood family, hoping to gain a noble new friend and be turned away cruelly? Or perhaps some unsuspecting individual with no wish to fraternize.

Neither, it transpired. A lock of red hair flicked across my face as my desk partner pulled out her textbook and then frowned at her cauldron. It was Lily Evans, who I knew but had never actually spoken to, so I guess that counted. She glanced sideways at me cautiously, deciding whether or not I would help her if asked.

She took the leap. “Do you know much about potionmaking?”

I coughed. _Who doesn’t know about potionmaking?_ Before answering, I noticed her bracelet, a rather ordinary looking thing at that. The charms didn’t even move or-- _oh._ It was then that I remembered the observation I’d made on the train. “Just a little. Do you enjoy cooking with your family?”

She wrinkled her eyebrows, a little thrown by the seemingly random question. “Um, yes. My dad taught me how. Why?”

“Potionmaking is the same as cooking,” I replied, and continued when she gave me a skeptical expression. “There’s a specific heat for different recipes, all of which have directions you either follow to the letter or perhaps fiddle around with to your own style, and a list of ingredients used. Same principle, different equipment, that’s all.”

Evans visibly relaxed, then turned to look where the washed-up old walrus was finishing his welcoming address. “...such information and skill you will find rather useful as we learn and grow over these next seven years!” Professor Slughorn cleared his throat. “As today is our first venture into your potions careers, I thought that it wouldn’t hurt to start with a bit of an experiment, as all potionmaking first began!” He seemed rather pleased with himself. I was a bit apprehensive, considering he’d just given permission to a group of eleven year olds (and myself) to fuss around with random ingredients. That scenario simply begged for disaster. “Now then, there will be a few rules I’ll ask you to observe.” _That’s better._ “Try to focus your efforts on an antidote of some kind! Could be a cure for pimples, or perhaps something to prevent congestion. I don’t expect perfection as this is your first day! Please refrain from arguing amongst yourselves; we’re all learning in here! Ingredients are in the cupboard, and you all have an ingredient appendix within your textbooks. If you should find yourselves unable to move forward, or faced with a problem, do not hesitate to ask questions!”

With that rather broad introduction, which left me in no doubt that he hadn’t actually planned a real lesson for his first years, Professor Slughorn settled at his desk and waved at us jovially. There was a heartbeat, maybe three, before anybody started to move. At my left, Evans looked like a deer trapped in a spotlight, completely frozen to her chair. “Is potionmaking still like cooking?” she hissed from the corner of her mouth.

“What, don’t tell me you’ve never made something from scratch before,” I replied easily, rising from my seat and striding over to the cupboard. She followed me, watching as I selected a a vial of this, a couple of those and a bit of that.

“Ah!” The walrus grunted, causing a few heads to turn curiously. Belby was speaking to him, though I doubted he was full of questions. He was probably kissing up to the teacher in the way he’d probably have done to me if given the chance. “Yes, I remember your mother very well! She was a great talent in my class, of course! What is she upto these days? Last I heard she’d just invented a new dynamic to racing brooms…”

 _Oh brother._ I realized with a jolt. _Belby’s not the kiss-_ _ass._ _The walrus is._ I grimaced as I returned to my station, making another mental note of the day: never sit in the front row in Potions.

 

* * *

 

By the weeks end, I had already decided which teachers I did and didn’t like. Professor Binns, for example, fascinated me--simply because of the idea that someone could be so dead-icated, or resigned to teaching that they continued to do so despite having passed through the veil. Also, he was quite literally impossible to read, except he followed the textbook religiously so anyone with half a brain could predict the homework as he lectured. Flitwick was alright, and apparently also the Head of Ravenclaw House--not that it gained his students any special treatment. Sprout wasn’t bad either, and it was one of the classes I had with the Gryffindors. Watching Sirius and Potter fire snargaluff pods at one another was a bonus, as was watching them earn detention for missing and hitting Sprout in the back of the neck. The other class happened to be my favorite by a wide margin: Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Professor ‘Golightly’ did anything but--he was missing an eye and didn’t even bother to cover the socket with a patch. Apparently he’d worked for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and his primary job had been sniffing out and arresting Dragon Dealers, (people who sold dragon eggs illegally.) In the twilight of his years he decided to take a quieter job as teacher, and spent the entire hour of his class firing minor spells at us--and it was our job to reach the other end unscathed.

I think he was just blowing off steam, but Dork--whose hair had been turned into weeds and the only solution had been to shave her head--believes him to be a raving lunatic. She went to breakfast Saturday morning wearing her black pointed hat, I compared her to a pterodactyl and long story short she threw a bowl of porridge at me. It hit Quirinus because she failed to follow through, (and I might have used the levitation spell from under the table, but nobody needed to know that.)

I left the table before the crystal ball could find another missile, and ducked on outside. I spotted Sirius and Potter heading towards the Quidditch pitch, both of them clutching broomsticks as they marched. The sight almost made me wistful; Sirius, Regulus and I used to race each other at the summer home in Spain. But I didn’t want to suffer nostalgia, it was my first weekend away from home: I should try to find some semblance of fun. Casting an eye around the lawn, I spotted a skinny boy sitting in the shade of a solitary tree beside the lake. I guessed it was Remus, even at this distance, and made my way over to join him.

Silently glad I’d guessed correctly, I cleared my throat as I drew near. He’d looked a bit shaky over the last few days and I didn’t want to spook him. “Hello.”

He blinked up at me for a moment before replying. “Oh. Hi.” An awkward silence grew between us as I stood over him, and I spent that time wondering what was different about him now. On the train he’d been a stammering, cowardly mess; right before the sorting he’d been stiff and almost disdainful towards others. Today he seemed...on edge, as if he anticipated an attack and hadn’t decided if he was going to fight back or flee. I imagined this was how a predator felt around another animal that was a rung or two down the food chain.

But why was I comparing Lupin to an animal? He was nothing more than a scared eleven year old… Except something inside me knew, even then, that he wasn’t.

Still, I wouldn’t be able to figure it out just staring at him. Forgoing an invitation, I claimed a seat opposite him in the shade. “What do you think--of your first almost week of school?”

He shook his head. “Too soon to tell. My roommates are a bit...rowdy. It’s been hard to get a decent night’s rest, so if you’re wondering why I look like death, that might have something to do with it.” Giving me a half-smile and a shrug, Remus looked a little less off and a little more genuine.

“I can give you dirt on Sirius if he needs motivation to shut up when told,” I offered. His explanation for his current state was smooth, if a bit rehearsed. I was starting to sense a second face somewhere around here, and clenched my right fist where he couldn’t see.

“That might be useful, if it comes down to it. Thanks,” he replied pleasantly. “What do you make of the classes?”

“In general, they’re a bit dull but I suppose we’ve only been here a few days,” I squinted across the grounds towards the Quidditch pitch when I heard a few screams. “Professor Golightly might be my favorite so far, though.”

Remus snorted in amusement. “That was terrible, what happened to Meadowes. How is she?”

“Bald as a vulture, but you didn’t hear it from me,” I grinned at my own simile, remembering her propensity to circle and pick apart my bloodline whenever she got the chance. I think she wanted to intimidate me or prove a point, but I didn’t care or feel ashamed of anything she’d pointed out thus far.

“Oh no? What if I did?” he challenged.

“Well I’ll be alright, but you’d be concerned for the people standing within range of me because she’s got terrible aim.” Another bout of screams reached us as Remus chuckled. “You didn’t want to try out for Quidditch?”

“I don’t fly much, and I’m sure there are much more enthusiastic people...James hasn’t stopped talking about his prowess in flying. Sirius told him to fly out of the tower last night, just to prove it.”

“And?” I was just curious why people were screaming, I told myself sternly. I _wasn’t_ concerned. In fact, I was so unconcerned I almost didn’t hear Remus’s answer.

“Well he flew out the window, and proceeded to perform a series of complicated loops and stuff, all the while Sirius magicked the windows shut. Ours, the rest of the dorms, the common room's, and when James tried to go in the girls dorm windows a gust of wind came out of nowhere and sent him crashing into-” both of us jumped to our feet as a final, hair-raising shriek rent the air. “-long story short, he got detention all next week.”

“Of course he did,” I replied, not caring whether he meant James or Sirius. Without another word, we sprinted across the grounds for the Quidditch pitch, trying to ignore the fact that one of the goal posts was on fire.


	3. Good Start

Despite what many people assumed, Sirius and I weren't that different on the inside. How we acted on the outside is where the separation came, and that’s what everyone usually wastes their judgement upon. If Roy spent the majority of his time bragging about how great he was at everything, ignorant to anyone who might have come from less than desirable circumstances like the most ancient and noble House of Black, I’d have wanted to lock him out of Ravenclaw Tower. I wouldn’t, I’d find other means to communicate my displeasure. 

Not my cousin Sirius. Sure, he liked the Potter kid, but he also had something of a short fuse. It hadn’t started with the tower incident, I’d later learn, in fact it actually started on the train when I’d been out of the compartment. Sirius had got ahold of some head-inflating chewing gum that morning (I assume he swiped it from Uncle Cy) and replaced Potters  _ Droobles Best Blowing Gum  _ with it. (The longer you chew, the bigger your head gets; its technically illegal in most countries because the packaging doesn’t tell you how to deflate.)

Potter struck back the very same night, apparently sprinkling Belch Powder into Sirius’s water at dinner, causing him to burp repeatedly while trying to talk to Marlene McKinnon. 

And thus the Prank War of 1971 was born. 

As Remus and I raced into the stands to get a look at what was happening to the tryouts, we were witnesses of one of its many battles. Many wouldn’t believe that a couple of first years with maybe a spell under their belt apiece could wreak havoc in this manner, but I grew up with Sirius Orion Black and I knew better. 

Talk of the devil, he was still airborne, apparently unable to dismount-- _ someone  _ had stuck his hands to his broom handle. Potter was astride his broom as well, and every time he made a change in direction, the tail of his broom shot sparks out the end. I highly doubted that was apart of the model’s original design. The Gryffindor team was trying to put out the flames on the goalpost while the rest of the tryout-Quidditch players flew around Sirius, trying to help his situation. Even as we watched, my cousin flipped upside down and hung from his broom like an idiot. 

“What on earth-?” Remus gasped, clearly not adept at reading his surroundings, so I decided to fill him in, only this once.

“Potter might have put a sticking charm on Sirius’s broom handle, (probably learned it from Fortescue,) and Sirius jinxed Potter’s broom, probably making it emit sparks or something when it accelerates or turns. Suffice to say, I don’t think either of them will make the team.”

We watched in silence as the Quidditch captain, a girl with short brown hair, screamed in frustration as the goalpost shuddered, threatening to fall over. They’d put out most of the blaze but the cracked and charred goalpost wasn’t much to brag about. 

“Suffice to say…” Remus repeated softly, watching as Madam Hooch dragged Potter off his now-faulty broom, pointing him back up at the castle. “He’s already got detention with McGonagall next week, what else could they possibly do to him?”

 

 

* * *

The ban went up the following Monday. FIRST YEARS ARE NOT PERMITTED TO HAVE THEIR OWN BROOM. Any first year in possession of a racing broom had to either send it home or allow it to be confiscated until the holidays. 

As if that wasn’t bad enough, rumors about the Gryffindor tryouts began to slide out of control as the second week progressed. I was halfway through lunch Wednesday when I overheard a couple of second and third years talking about how James Potter burned the Quidditch pitch to the ground by flying too fast. 

Whenever I saw the Gryffindors, I noticed that Sirius and Potter sort of distanced themselves from one another, and I couldn’t tell who was trying to give the other one space. I’d learn from Remus later that they’d continued to prank one another for many weeks after the tryout incident, until one day they both agreed upon a truce. Then they decided to join forces and plant chaos as a team. 

As for Remus himself, I kept an eye on him for my own curiosity. The edge I thought I’d sensed in him Saturday morning had worn off by the next weekend, and he’d returned to a shy, quiet individual, much more resembling the version I’d first met. But in my conversations with him I came to suspect that he wasn’t actually shy, he was simply trying to stay out of anyone’s attention. Unfortunately for him, that only made me more curious. 

There was something about him...something I couldn’t put my finger on just yet. 

I kept to myself for about a month, keeping up with homework and otherwise my nose in some novel or other, and it was around mid-October that I noticed my housemates were struggling in their classwork. 

Quirinus detested DADA and Transfiguration, while Roy only liked Charms and practically ignored all the rest. Damocles hated history in general so anytime a teacher began to lecture he would zone out immediately, while Dork had a habit of being downright disagreeable with just about every subject except Herbology and Astronomy. Of the first years, excluding myself, Pandora seemed to be the only one with her head on straight. 

I overheard the girls arguing over defensive magic one evening, and proceeded to grimace behind my copy of  _ Quidditch Through the Ages. _

“Why do I have to learn how to disarm somebody?” Dork whined.

“Because if a witch or wizard doesn’t have their wand,” Pandora said, her voice firm but patient. “Then they can’t attack you.”

“If somebody disarmed me, I’d still be able to punch them in the face, wouldn’t I?” Dork challenged, and even without looking I could see her face all scrunched up, daring Pandora to contradict her. 

“I suppose you could, but they’d still have their wand and might hex you before you get the chance,” Pandora replied smoothly. “Besides, what if they’re bigger than you? Magic evens out the playing field.”

“There are too many spells. How’m I supposed to know the difference between a hex and a jinx? Who cares? Not me,” there was a snap as Dork shut her spellbook, and I could feel her desire to throw it into the fireplace rise in her chest. I looked up, withdrawing my wand from my robes and said, “ _ Wingardium Leviosa!” _ just as Dork’s book flew over my head. It froze in the air, and I flicked it back over at the girls with a flick. Pandora looked amazed while Dork just looked irritated.

“How’d you know?” Pandora asked, her pale eyebrows traveling up her forehead.

I shrugged, turning back to my book. “Lucky guess.”

“I think you mean ‘eavesdropping,’ you git,” growled Dork, sounding like she wanted to throw her book again, this time at me. I wasn’t terribly concerned, her aim hadn’t improved much in the last month, although her hair had started to grow back. From a distance she looked like a boy with a lot of attitude. 

“It’s eavesdropping if I was secretly listening to you,” I replied, “not much of a secret when you’re sitting across a coffee table from me. I have ears, and  _ you _ have a loud voice.”

“Are you calling me annoying?” Dork asked, and I knew she was picking an argument because one _ :  _ she was procrastinating, and two: she’d been trying to pick a fight with me for a while now. I think she wanted to prove to herself and everyone that just because I was a pureblood and ‘of wizarding nobility’, I wasn’t anything special. 

“That’s not the word I would use to describe you, Meadowes,” sighing, I mentally accepted the fact that I might not be able to talk my way out of this one. If she wanted a pathetic wizards duel when she couldn’t even practice the disarming spell...well, that wasn’t my fault.

“Well then, what word would you use?”

“I’d tell you, but I’m afraid it’s too big for your vocabulary and I wouldn’t want you to feel imbecilic.” I realized later that was a line I’d heard my father use on Aunt Burgie. Her reaction was much the same as what Dork did to me.

Pointing her wand at my face she shouted the first spell that popped into her head. In hindsight, I think she’d agree that “ _ Lumos! _ ” was not the best opening to a very short duel. 

Without even looking at her, I pointed my wand and replied, “ _ Expelliarmus!”  _ her wand flew into the air and landed in my lap, it's point still alight. I picked it up and muttered, “ _ Nox _ ,” before tossing it back to Dork. “Still think disarming is a waste of time?”

Grinding her teeth in annoyance, Dork turned her back on me and marched towards the girls’ dormitory. Pandora waited until she’d gone before speaking. “Well...there goes another pillow.”

“Sorry?” I said, thinking I’d misheard her.

“Dorcas takes out her frustration by punching her bed pillows. The last few needed replacing…” she drifted off, leaving me to imagine Dork having a pillow fight with herself, which in all likelihood wasn’t as terrifying as it should have been.

“That’s not so bad, as long as you’re not allergic to feathers,” I stated, trying to keep her serious undertone at bay. 

She considered me for a moment before leaning forward, as though about to let me in on a secret. “You know, making friends is a lot easier when you don’t chase away all the candidates.” With that said, she stood up as well and followed after Dork, taking the abandoned spellbooks with her. 

I coughed into my shoulder, not that anyone was watching. It was a habit I picked up from my father over the years. It was extremely rude to roll your eyes in front of people, specifically the influential people that tended to flock to Black Manor during events--so instead of broadcasting to everyone how annoying he thought they all were, he feigned having a cough.

Sitting in the spacious common room didn’t feel as inviting as it had an hour ago, so I stowed the book back where I’d found it on one of the high shelves, and opted for exploring this sector of the castle. Of course leaving the common room meant braving the door’s annoying quiz, something I’d managed to not do by returning with or near a group of older students, who admittedly came up with more creative answers then I could on my own. 

Deciding the risk was worth the escape, I made my way down the winding staircase and out into the twisted corridors. A few of the portraits acknowledged me, though a large depiction of the Giant wars decided it would be more fun to stalk me for three hallways before returning to their bloody canvas. I’m sure if I spoke Giantish, I’d take offense on several levels but fortunately in all my tutoring prior to being admitted to Hogwarts, learning a practically dead language wasn’t on my to-do list. 

I thought it strange I hadn’t heard anything from my father since being sorted. Cissy said she’d written to her father about the whole affair that first night, my mishap and Sirius’s disgrace—but if that didn’t send Aunt Burgie blasting down the front gates I wasn’t sure what would.  _ If nothing else, she’ll lay the pressure on Regulus to get into Slytherin next year, or else. _

While lost in thought, I accidentally stumbled into one of the many suits of armor placed along the wall. I merely brushed against it, not forcefully enough to collapse it—that would be poor workmanship if anything—but it was enough to shift the spear in the chain mail grasp. The movement was followed by a subtle thunk further along the wall, and then before my very eyes, the stone slabs dissolved to reveal an opening. The rush of air coming from its dark depths indicated it wasn’t just a room, but a tunnel of some kind…

_ What’s a castle without its secrets?  _ I thought with a smirk, but before I could make a move towards the dark, I heard footsteps approaching. Seized by a sudden rush of guilt and panic, I jumped back against the suit of armor, turning to face none other than the Head Boy. He was a strapping Slytherin lad, and I vaguely remembered the fact that his name was Warrington or something. 

“What do you think you’re doing out of your tower?” he demanded, his scowl making it so his face resembled a neanderthal. 

“I fancied a walk,” I said, wondering why he hadn’t noticed the mysterious tunnel leading who knows where behind me. 

“You’ve five minutes until curfew and then I’d be within rights to give you detention,” he said, more to himself than me, really. I guess I should’ve been grateful he wasn’t abusing his power, but I only thought of that after the fact.

In the moment I said, “Do you have any idea who I am?” When the Head Boy shook his head, a puzzled and condescending expression plastered across his stupid face, I went on. “I’m a first year who had planned his whole life on being in Slytherin and was shunted aside to be in Ravenclaw; I’m not made for high towers and complicated routes through these blasted halls--how many years was it before you didn’t lose your way?” 

A look of dawning comprehension found him at last. “You’re Pollux Black, aren’t you?” He cleared his throat, adding “Narcissa’s cousin?” in a foolishly hopeful voice. 

I coughed. “If you’re planning on receiving a blessing, you’re barking up the wrong tree.”

He shook his head quickly. “Oh-! No, no. I was just clarifying--of course I know that I’d have to address her father directly to receive--but I wasn’t, I mean I didn’t actually--” he gulped, his neck and ears turning an unpleasant shade of pink. 

_ Well, somebody’s been having  _ _ inappropriate  _ _ thoughts around the common room, _ I coughed again. “You misunderstand me. You’re barking up the wrong tree--not meaning myself, but my whole family. My uncle Cygnus would never give his precious daughter to the likes of you.”

“I beg your pardon?” he stopped steaming out his mouth and nose and looked afronted at my words. “What is that supposed to mean, exactly?”

“I mean, you can’t even keep the rules. It’s past my curfew and you’ve delayed me from returning to my common room by talking--I should give detention to you!” With that, I marched past him, casting one look back, satisfied to see him standing there, jaw agape. On a side note, the tunnel had hidden itself again, and I made a silent vow to come back the next day to investigate further. 

 

* * *

 

While the tunnel was the only thing that occupied my mind all night and on the way to the Great Hall, breakfast was rudely interrupted by a Howler. Not for me, but just about. When the family Great Horned owl landed at the Gryffindor table, screeched bad-temperedly at Sirius, and took off without a treat, I think we both knew exactly what was in store for everyone present. Sirius and I grew up with Aunt Burgie’s tantrums, so we knew how to understand her without going deaf...the same cannot be said for the rest of the innocents trying to have their breakfast. 

When later I asked my father why Bu r gie’s letter had taken so long to arrive after her eldests’ sorting, the truth of the matter was that Cygnus hadn’t wanted to tell her, going so far as hiding the news from her until she pulled it out of Bella. Basically, the event was a long time coming, and the moment I spotted the red envelope I swapped tables, sitting between Sirius and some chubby kid with watery eyes. I wasn’t naive enough to think that Burgie wouldn’t address me as well. He gave me a swift, impatient glance but before he could tell me he didn’t need me at his side, suddenly it didn’t matter.

Whether all conversation in the Great Hall ceased, or everyone became simultaneously mute, as Sirius tore the red envelope open, a sound vacuum seemed to open, allowing only the colorful sound of Walburga Black to fill the Great Hall. 

“SIRIUS ORION BLACK!! YOU FILTHY PATHETIC EXCUSE FOR A SON! YOU BRING SHAME TO YOUR FAMILY, TO YOUR FATHER, YOUR BROTHER AND YOU BRING A CURSE UPON ME! NEVER IN OUR HISTORY HAS THERE BEEN A BLACK WHO HASN’T BEEN SORTED INTO SLYTHERIN! I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN FROM THE MOMENT YOU WERE BORN THAT YOU WOULD NEVER AMOUNT TO ANYTHING! YOU ARE WEAK! YOU ARE SCUM! YOU-”

Sirius maintained a carefully constructed expression as his lovely mother’s disembodied voice continued to outline all the ways in which he was worthless. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t heard any of it before. To anyone watching him, he appeared unbothered, but under the table, his hand was clenched on my sleeve, his fingers pinching my skin. He wasn’t bothered so much by the words, but by the fact that they were in display of everyone in the entire school. 

After another minute of screaming at Sirius for just existing, Burgie finally changed tact, and screamed at Sirius for being a bad influence on me.

“POLLUX WOULD HAVE MADE A FINE SLYTHERIN IF IT WASN’T FOR THE LIKES OF YOU!” Something to that effect. “I WOULD HAVE PREFERRED TO BE HIS MOTHER OVER YOU! HOW DARE YOU CALL YOURSELF MY SON?!”

By the time it was all over, and the Howler exploded all over his bacon and eggs, Sirius’s grip on my arm had effectively cut off my blood circulation. Did I still have a left hand? Who knew.

“Come on,” I said quietly, pulling him away from his half-eaten breakfast. He resisted at first, not wanting to escape the hall with his tail between his legs, but after a few nudges and urges from Potter and myself, he stood and walked out. He refused to speak or look at anyone until we had put several flights of stairs between us and them. 

Not by coincidence, we were in the same hallway where I’d stumbled upon the tunnel. I silently hoped the distraction would wipe the distantly defeated look off of my cousins face. He didn’t  need comforting words or pity, he needed something else to talk about.

Leading him to stand where it would appear, I instructed him to stay put and moved to the suit of armor. He and Potter watched curiously as I nudged the spear, standing back to watch the tunnel reappear. 

Only it didn’t. 

“Well, glad I walked all this way just to see you touch a nother man’s  weapon.” Sirius said sarcastically, which in fairness to him was a good sign. If my cousin couldn’t be sarcastic, he would truly be dead inside.

“Hold on,” I snapped. I reached out and twisted the spear counterclockwise and this time the tunnel revealed itself. Sirius and Potter jumped back as that cold rush of air swept over them, before looking into the darkness eagerly.

“Where does it lead?” Potter whispered, as though speaking loudly would scare the tunnel. 

“Not sure,” I replied with a shrug. “I only found it last night before I got caught.” 

Potter gave me a look that was both incredulous and proud. “ _ You  _ got caught? By who?”

“Warrington, but that’s not the important part—“ I turned on Sirius, who had not spoken nor moved. “What’s the bet it leads someplace forgotten?”

It was an old game he, Regulus and I used to play: forgotten or forbidden. Sometimes we’d uncover something around the Manor and imagine its origin story. I figured bringing it up now would give him a better memory to grasp onto than whatever dark thoughts his Howler had invited. 

Sirius considered the tunnel a moment longer before replying, “Nah. Someplace forbidden.” 

“Why not find out?” Potter challenged, one foot already inside but—

“There you all are!” Remus came striding toward us, three book bags thrown over his shoulder. “We’re going to be late for Defense Against the Dark Arts-! You remember what Professor Golightly did to Mulciber a week ago-“ he came to a full stop as his eyes landed on the tunnel. “Well. That looks ominous.” But then he switched back to the issue at hand, thrusting Potter and Sirius’s bags into their respective hands. “You can explore later. Class is now.”

“C’mon Remus, you know you want to have a look inside,” said Sirius, surprisingly playful. 

Remus didn’t deny it. He glanced at me as I shifted the spear, sealing the entrance once again. “I’m not wearing my ears on my chin because you lot wanted to wander round the spooky, black passageway. Let’s go.” He turned his back on the three of us, leading the way to DADA. 

“So that’s a rain check, then,” said Potter smugly. 

“I should think so,” I said agreeably. “But he’s got a point. It took the nurse three days to fix Mulciber.”

Sirius burst into a run, sprinting past Remus with a bark of a laugh. “Last one there gets an extra nose!”

  
  



	4. Different on the Outside

Despite the fact that I couldn’t stop thinking about the mysterious tunnel that was just around the corner from Ravenclaw tower, and the fact that Sirius, Potter, and even Remus were itching to go back and inspect it further, we could never seem to find time. As if the teachers could see our dwindling interest in their subjects, they applied large amounts of homework, essentially stealing away our free time. Despite appearances, the Gryffindor boys cared about keeping up with grades, and I hardly saw them outside of meals.

During such a time where I’d rather be walking around in the dark, I could be found in the library, struggling through another Herbology essay. I’d finished Transfiguration and History of Magic both in a half hour and Defense Against the Dark Arts was barely a challenge.

After finding that I had absolutely no interest in finishing the assignment on the comparison between two plants that might be poisonous depending on the shape of their leaves and the ways they try to entice humans into coming closer--I dropped my quill on the parchment and leaned back in my chair with a frustrated groan.

“Transfiguration or Astronomy?” said a lilting voice from across the table. I looked up and saw Alice Fortescue from Hufflepuff, sitting with a girl from Gryffindor I didn’t recognize. I frowned, tilting my head to silently communicate how much I didn’t understand what she meant. “Are you working on Transfiguration or Astronomy? That noise you just made is the sound Mary here makes when its one of those assignments.”

The Gryffindor, Mary, lifted her gaze from her textbook to study my face. “You’re Sirius Black’s cousin, aren’t you?” she asked in a charming brogue.

“That depends,” I replied guardedly.

“On what?”

“On whether or not you like Sirius.”

Mary shook her head, her short blonde hair swishing across her cheeks as she did so. “Not really, no.”

“Then no, he’s not my cousin,” I said with a straight face, earning a laugh from Alice. “Never heard of him.”

“Good, then maybe I’ll like you,” Mary smiled. “What’s got your wand in a twist then?” she pressed, leaning forward to catch a glimpse of my unfinished essay.

“Herbology,” I admitted.

“Really? I think that’s the easiest class,” Alice piped up. “I work in my father’s garden a lot when he travels, so I guess there’s an advantage.”

“All I know is how to de-gnome a garden,” said Mary. “My older sister learned from a bloke she dated back in ‘66. Some ginger-haired guy with a long nose.”

“That would make for an interesting date,” Alice commented. “You’d certainly never forget it.” She looked across at me, pulling out a sharp grin. “Maybe one day I’ll take you on a date to my father’s garden and teach you a thing or two!”

Both of them erupted into hushed giggles, and I was slightly appalled that the librarian didn’t run over and boot them out of her library. I got kicked out a month ago for sneezing ‘too loudly’. Deciding to bring logic back into play, retrieved from whatever corner it had hid itself in, I said, “That wouldn’t help me out much. You talk about the future, but this essay is due tomorrow.”

“I thought Ravenclaw’s were supposed to be good in every subject,” said Mary sanctimoniously.

“Not this Ravenclaw,” I sighed and picked up my quill again, only to poke the feathery end at my parchment. “I never got that memo, or cheatsheet, or whatever the secret is…”

I could feel Alice watching me, could practically hear the blood pulse into her brain as she considered her choice of words. “Lux… what do you think it means to be a Ravenclaw?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “To be smart...creative...I don’t know.”

“Right. Well, I don’t know if this will make you feel better or not, but there’s a Ravenclaw a few years our senior, and she’s the dumbest person I’ve ever met.” I raised my eyes to meet Alice’s certain she was lying.

I couldn’t be sure, but something in her expression told me it was a true statement. “Who?”

“Bertha Jenkins or something,” she replied dismissively. “I asked her where the teacher’s lounge was and all she fed me was some crap about the caretaker and the librarian, which led to more gossip and after nearly twenty minutes of listening to her jabber I still had no idea where I could find Professor McGonagall. And then she had the gall to ask for my notes from class, apparently under the impression that we were in the same year.”

“Isn’t she the girl who tried popping her pimples with defensive magic?” inquired Mary. “Almost blew her own nose off?”

“I get it,” I said quickly, delaying any further depictions of the stupid Ravenclaw. “How is this helping?”

Alice licked her lips. “Well, almost immediately after my run in with her, I met a prefect named Lovegood, and he wasn’t winning any scholarly awards either.”

“Your point?” I urged, slightly irritated that she was poking holes in the only truth I knew about my stupid smart House.

“Well, I don’t think that the traditional Ravenclaw is the classic know-it-all. I think it’s a house for people who think or act differently than everyone else,” she shrugged slightly. “I don’t believe that being highly intelligent is all Ravenclaw’s are good for...if that were true, a lot of first years would be in Ravenclaw--like that Evans or McKinnon.”

Mary cleared her throat. “Are you saying I’m not intelligent?”

“I’m saying you were this close to being in Slytherin--no offense,” Alice added with a nod towards me.

“They wouldn’t want me, I’m a half-blood,” Mary snorted.

“Most of them are,” I murmured.

“Lux,” Alice sighed. “If you’re going to say anything, speak loud enough to share.”

“Most of Slytherin _is_ Half-blood,” I reiterated, “they just play up the pureblood side in order to ignore their own inadequacies.”

“Is that what you believe?” Mary raised an eyebrow. “Anyone without pure, magical blood in their veins is inadequate?”

“I didn’t say that. I said that’s how most of the Slytherins feel.”

“Well,” Alice stuck her quill behind her ear. “This is an explosive topic. How do you feel about blood, then? I mean obviously, the Black family’s reputation precedes you and Sirius but from what I’ve seen of your behaviour...it’s inconclusive.”

I straightened in my seat just a touch, gazing steadily across at the two girls. If this was a ploy to divide me from my family, it wasn’t going to work. Mary raised her other eyebrow and pursed her lips. “Ooh, that’s a new look on him.”

I knew my answer. I didn’t think blood mattered much in the way of magic--what Remus had declared to Avery our first night in the castle, I completely agreed with. After the dozens of incompetent pure blooded kids I’d run into, there was no way for me to believe differently. Not honestly, anyway. But that was information I didn’t widely share, mostly because I didn’t want to rebel against my father the way Sirius acted so rashly against his mother.

Same on the inside, different on the outside.

I sighed deeply before speaking at last. “I’m not here to discuss politics. If neither of you will offer helpful advice on this assignment,” I tapped my parchment pointedly, “then I’ll just find another section to procrastinate in.” I began to gather up my textbook and my pathetic excuse for an essay, when Alice waved me down.

“Alright, alright, sit your tush back down,” she raised both hands in surrender. “It’s just an example of a good conversation gone bad--I’ll help you write your bleeding essay, don’t be such a child.” The more she spoke, the faster her pattern of speech became and the thicker her accent went on to be. She grabbed my essay and scanned the few paragraphs I’d written already. “Well no wonder you’re having a rough time of it, this is a terrible topic!”

Mary tossed back her head in silent laughter, whether at Alice’s words or my facial expression I wasn’t sure. Either way, I was grateful for the change in the conversation, because I wasn’t finishing Herbology on my own.  

* * *

About two hours later, after the end of study hall and dinner, I found myself walking back to the common room in the wake of Roy, Quirinus and Damocles. They ambled along past the suit of armor and its spear, which taunted me once again over how close yet so far I was to discovering the secret it was hiding. Scaling the winding staircase, I found a small blockade in the form of about ten Ravenclaws preventing entrance into the common room. All of them looked to be between the years of one and three, so not that much experience where the riddles were concerned.

“What’s the question?” Roy asked gallantly. He’d been on something of a streak for nearly three days and was starting to grow overconfident.

A third year girl near the knocker prompted the eaglehead, which called out in a rather exasperated tone, “ _What is a room no one can enter?_ ”

The smile slid off Roy’s face like a raindrop, and he turned on Quirinus and Damocles. “Any ideas?”

Personally, I thought the question was directed at me, as a way of the castle mocking me. _A room no one can enter? How about the one at the end of the tunnel right downstairs? Course, I can’t say that because there’s about a dozen people present whom I’d rather not share that information with!_ Quiet and unremarkable little Quirinus mumbled a word none of us heard but somehow, the eagle had. “ _Quite so,”_ and the door unlocked and swung inward. Those who had been waiting the longest gave cries of jubilation and relief before surging inside. I even heard one of them whine about how badly they had to use the bathroom.

“What did you say?” I asked, making Quirinus and the other two jump slightly. Apparently they hadn’t been aware of me until then.

Damocles moved to hold the door open while the rest of us moved inside. “He said ‘mushroom’,” he told me in an undertone. Quirinus glanced at us with a small shrug, moving to claim a table near the statue of Rowena.

The three of them had picked up a pattern of working together after dinner, a habit from which I resolutely abstained. But some lingering curiosity from my earlier discussion with Alice and Mary… I put my pride on hold and claimed a seat beside Roy, ignoring the surprised, angry and confused looks I received.

“That was clever,” I informed Quirinus. _He needs a nickname more than anything...but where do you go_ _with a name like his?_

He wiped his bewilderment off his face and nodded. “Thanks.”

Damocles, still looking infuriated, cleared his throat. “Can we help you with something, Black?” He said frostily, which I fully deserved, given the less than accepting attitude I’d given the three of them since day one. “Only we’ve got our Transfiguration homework to finish.”

He wanted me to leave, that was obvious. He was fine with the previous arrangement, of me pretending they didn’t exist and vice versa. But if I was to ever find out what it meant to be a Ravenclaw, it wasn’t by observing myself. I knew myself very well, or at least I thought I did, and myself hadn’t told me anything I didn’t already know…

Feeling a slight headache coming on, I glanced over Roy’s essay on the unknown element in the Transfigurative formula. Remembering Alice’s patience, I tried to emulate it. “I’d pick a different topic if I were you,” I said softly.

“ _I_ helped him choose it,” Damocles growled. “What’s wrong with it?”

I met his bloodhound eyes and grimaced. “Nothing. It’s a wonderful inquiry, maybe one that experts like McGonagall have pursued for ages, but if any of you plan on turning it in tomorrow morning you might want to try something that’s within reach.”

“We’ve managed to do our work this far without your input, thank you very much,” Damocles replied, sounding about the furthest thing from grateful as he could get.

“I’m not disparaging your efforts, it was only a suggestion,” I said, feeling quite attacked. Apparently I wasn’t as disarming as Alice and Mary--maybe I needed a lilting accent or a quick visit to the Blarney stone. Transfiguration was turning out to be my best subject after all, but I couldn’t seem to find a way to offer assistance without making Damocles upset/pissing Damocles off. Roy and Quirinus watched us speak back and forth like a one-on-one Quidditch match, silently wondering who would win.

“Well nobody asked you!” Damocles clutched his book tight enough to puncture the hardcover with his thumbs. “We’re not even your friends, you have no business to sit with us, chatting as though we always have!”

I inhaled through my nose and exhaled through my mouth, trying to exercise control. It’s something my father usually did whenever Burgie began harping on his lifestyle. “Fine. Good luck answering the unknown and impossible in twelve hours.” I stood up and marched past the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw up into the dormitory… which was a terrible place to get away from the three of them, because it only led to the enclosed space we all shared.

I changed out of my robes and collapsed on my bed without delay, planning on simply melting into the bedsheets where Damocles’ bloodhound eyes could never find me again. That flawless plan was interrupted by an incessant tapping on the window pane. Lifting my head, and my wand arm, I opened the window with a simple spell, inviting the school owl into the room, hop across my nightstand and onto my chest, before dropping a note on my face.

Giving it a muffled ‘thank you,’ I reached up to unfold and read it.

_PRB,_

_We’ve decided. We don’t have the time during daylight hours, so we’re going for it tonight. If you want to be there, meet us at the suit of armor at midnight. You read that right: past curfew. I will literally die if I’m forced to go another day without knowing what’s down that tunnel. Even Remus agreed to do it._

_SOB_

 

Blindly reaching for a quill, I scribbled a reply on the bottom of the page before handing it back to the barn owl.

_We’re dead if we get caught out of bed after hours._

 

The owl took off out the window, leaving me in quiet reflection on my day thus far until it returned nearly five minutes later, landing on my stomach this time. The same note, written on the flip side was Sirius’s rushed scrawl:

_I know! That’s what makes it fun! You’d better be there or I’m telling everyone who knows you that you still wet the bed!_

 

I scoffed at the fallacy. That was a pretty bad shot at trying to get me to do something I might not necessarily wanted to do. If he wanted to embarrass me, he could at least try to use something real--Regulus was the one who wet the bed betwixt the three of us. He had nothing on me, no real reason for me to feel motivated to risk getting caught and put into detention. There would be a time and place to explore the tunnel during the day--likely a weekend or one of the holidays coming up.

Those were reasonable, responsible thoughts. They still did nothing to dissuade me from sneaking out of the dormitory at 11:50pm, silently beg the eaglehead knocker to ask a simpler question when and if I returned before the following dawn, and down into the corridor to wait in the shadow of the suit of armor.

* * *

At exactly midnight, Sirius, Remus and Potter seemed to materialize out of nowhere, laying their hands on the spear to make the tunnel reveal itself. I stepped out of the shadows, raising a questioning eyebrow at Sirius, who didn’t look nearly as surprised to see me as his friends did. “I told you he’d come,” he whispered in triumph to the others. “He is related to me, after all.”

“Unfortunately that is not up for debate, given our family’s crossed wires, but I’m sure we have other things to talk about then the similarities we pretend exist,” I said stiffly, brushing past Potter on into the dark of the tunnel.

“Hang on,” Remus muttered, withdrawing his wand from his tattered bathrobe and pointing it at the spear. “ _Wingardium Leviosa,”_ and we watched as the tunnel entrance and now exit disappeared behind us.

“Brilliant,” I said in the now entirely void passageway. “Any ideas for how we’re supposed to leave?”

“There’s got to be a way to open it from in here,” said Potter. “ _Lumos!”_ His wand tip glowed in the dark, followed shortly by mine and Sirius’s. The tunnel was in fact the beginning of a wide, spiral staircase going down at a deep angle. Any more inclined and it would’ve been easier to simply slide on our backs. At the flat top, there was an identical suit of armor to the one outside, spear and all.

“Well, that’s convenient,” I grumbled, walking with Sirius down the first of the steps. We proceeded cautiously at first, after Potter discovered a trick step which, I won’t lie, was hilarious. After the first few minutes, I asked Sirius, “What makes you think this place is forbidden?”

He grunted in amusement. “Given the fact that it’s hidden from view most of the time, that alludes to the fact that there might be something dubious at the end.”

“There are other hidden shortcuts in the castle, and they’re not forbidden--they’re useful,” I replied, dodging around Potter who thought he’d found another trick step.

“You have a point,” Remus said from behind Sirius. “But I don’t think this is just another shortcut, not when it’s trying so hard to be secretive.”

At length the stairs came to an end, leveling out into a wide path. The air had grown progressively colder the further down we’d climbed, and now it was positively brisk. Gotta love that November weather. “I don’t think we’re headed to a room,” Potter commented, saying the first intelligent thing I’d heard from him since forever.

“What if there’s a monster down here?” Sirius sounded thrilled at the prospect. “Could be a three-headed dog, or a hydra, or a troll...maybe even a werewolf!”

Remus snorted loudly. “I doubt that.” I glanced towards him, curious about the certainty in his voice. He caught my gaze and shrugged. “Dumbledore doesn’t strike me as the type of man who would keep a werewolf locked up in a secret dungeon.” His tone was casual, yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was lying...whether to me or to himself...it wasn’t clear.

The further we walked, the less flat the floor became and the more jagged formations began to stick out at odd intervals. Eventually we saw stalactites and stalagmites, making it feel more like a cave then a man made tunnel. Sirius and Potter began to speculate and eventually argue back and forth over what kinds of magical beasts could dwell down there, or possibly Dumbledore’s private vault filled with gold and ancient treasures. Remus and I either listened or didn’t, lost in our own thought processes. For quite some time I reflected on my misadventure earlier that evening with Belby. It was the first time I felt any sort of regret for my actions, but it was also too late to change the past. The emotion felt heavy and I wanted nothing more than to be rid of it. I couldn’t control how Belby felt, but I could control how I reacted. That was my safeguard, my standby.

I nearly tripped over Sirius, who stopped abruptly when Potter had, Remus stumbling into the three of us like we were bowling pins. Untangling myself from the idiot and my cousin, I regained my feet and squinted at the sight before me.

There was no gold, or treasure of any kind; not even a monster for Sirius’s pleasure or our demise. It was just…

“It’s a cave,” said Potter blankly. “It’s just a cave.”

“Hang on,” I moved to the mouth, poking my head out into the moonlight. “Happy Birthday Sirius,” I said in a monotone, “we’re out of the castle.”

“Huh?” Sirius stumbled over Potter to join me, and when he saw what I saw, he gave a loud whoop that would have deafened lesser listeners. I was raised on Aunt Burgie’s shrieks instead of classical music so it didn’t make a difference.

We were standing at the crest of a rocky hill, overlooking the small village of Hogsmeade--near the train station. We probably weren’t even on the castle grounds anymore. Remus and Potter came to stand at the mouth with us, their eyes wide as they stared around. High above us, the moon had just begun to wane, barely a sliver away from its fullness. “Whaddya know,” Potter chuckled. “Both forbidden _and_ forgotten.”

* * *

“Come on!” Sirius jumped out onto the hill, from rock to rock as he made his way down like a mountain goat, Potter at his heels. I looked to Remus, who hadn’t moved, but kept his eyes fixed on the moon insomuch that it was all I could see reflected in his gaze.

His earlier comment about Dumbledore and werewolves drifted to the forefront of my mind. There was something there. Something about his insistence...his conscious on the matter...like it was personal… “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Sirius,” I called after my cousin, remaining planted at the cave’s entrance. It had already taken us too long to reach this point--if we stayed out any longer, we wouldn’t make it back to the castle before our absence was noticed. I wasn’t going to giftwrap a chance for Belby to land me in detention.

Remus snapped out of his trance or reverie or whatever and checked his wristwatch. “It’s already three o’clock in the morning,” he announced, before looking up at me and shrugging. “But as long as we’re here-” he stepped outside and followed after Potter and Sirius.

I could have given in and gone with them. I could have withstood the bantering and plotting as they tiptoed around the village like miniature spies, and kept watch while they plundered Zonko’s joke shop like the underage miscreants they were born to be. But I didn’t. I turned around and made my way back up into the castle. I had nothing to prove, no dare to fulfill. I’d seen the end of the tunnel, my curiosity was sated. I was at least going to steal a few hours rest before the long day I would have to face when the morning came. That was the plan I had set for myself...only, when I reached the top step, when I shifted the spear in the suit of armors’ grasp...nothing happened. The wall remained. And continued to stubbornly do so until I figured out that raising the visor of the helmet is what made it work. Knowing that the Gryffindors wouldn’t return for quite sometime and I wasn’t about to leave the door open, or wait around for their probable return, I removed one of my socks and rested it on the visor. I then exited, shifted the spear on the other side, and made my way back to the common room.

The eaglehead was waiting for me, giving a soft squawk as a sad excuse for a yawn and crooned, “ _Imagine you are in a dark room...how do you get out?_ ”

I gave a proper yawn as words popped out of my mouth before consulting my brain first. “Stop imagining.”

The eaglehead snored, and gave me entrance.


	5. The Gudgeon Incident

“...What on earth are they doing?”

Alice looked up from doodling all over her Potions essay and followed my gaze outside. It had snowed Friday night, blanketing the grounds in thick white drifts, making them look pure right up until the following morning when nearly everyone decided to run amuck. Preferring to not get nailed in the head by James Potter’s snowballs, I had headed for my usual spot in the library, only to find it was already invaded by Alice and Mary. 

Only two hours later, I became distracted by a series of rapid movement outside the window. As Alice and I watched, a group of students approached the tree that had been freshly planted right before school had started (according to older students who had never seen the plant before.) It was called ‘the whomping willow’, resembling a regular willow tree except all the branches stood on end like porcupine quills, and the knots of each limb were thick as muscles and, according to a few unlucky chaps, packed a wallop. 

What I beheld as I looked out on that frosty afternoon was something that defied logic. They seemed to be trying to get close enough to touch the tree trunk, which would be a sinch were this your run-of-the-mill redwood. I grimaced as one of them jumped back, a whip-like branch missing her face by inches. 

“Looks to me like they’ve a death wish,” Alice observed, glancing down at her fingertips which were coated in black ink. “Ugh, this takes forever to get off,” she grumbled as an afterthought. 

“Clearly, because if they get any closer someone’s going to-” I cut myself short, emitting a soft hiss as the willow thrashed out at the suicidal students. “Who on earth looked at the tree and thought to themselves ‘well, this could be fun’?”

“Probably some boy tryin’ to impress some girl,” Mary sighed as she turned a page in her Transfiguration textbook. “Or some girl tryin’ to get some boy killed,” she amended after a pause.

Giving my head a shake, I returned to my homework. Or tried for maybe six minutes before my mind began to wander freely. 

The only experience I’d ever had with the Whomping Willow was a few weeks ago when Sirius dared me to chuck a rock at it. After my selected missile had embedded itself in the trunk, Potter made the off-hand comment that I’d make a good chaser, but before I could reply the rock I’d just thrown came shooting back and smacked me upside the face. Sirius and Potter laughed loudly, even after I chased them into the shallows of the lake. 

Those idiots...after the discovery of the secret passageway, they’d gotten it into their heads that there had to be more within the castle, and from what we could tell, we were the only ones who knew about the tunnel. From what Remus had said last, they hadn’t had much success in the way of finding others, and I refused to help; with the holidays looming over our heads I had to figure out how I was going to face my father when I went home. 

Even after the Howler, I hadn’t received a single peep from him, and my overactive mind was starting to convince me that I was headed towards disownment.  My father had always been someone I’d fully understood, but it was much harder to understand someone when they were so far away. Unless that someone was Cissy. I’d never really understood her.  In any case, I was experiencing stress akin to anxiety and if nothing else it prevented me from fully paying attention in classes, and it was starting to show. 

Just the other day, in Defense Against the Dark Arts of all places, Professor Golightly had called upon me at random, (if you raise your hand to willingly answer he just ignores you and calls on someone else,) and asked, “Black! What are the properties of a good defensive spell?”

Now, I knew the answer, but in the moment he inquired, all conscious thought seemed to take flight. Instead of taking the time to track down the correct information, my mouth did that thing where it speaks without permission. “I don’t know. I know you told me, but I honestly don’t remember the answer you want.”

Golightly raised a single eyebrow, the same one that rested over his empty socket. “Indeed? Perhaps you can recall an answer that  _ you’d _ want?”

I thought,  _ Properties of a defensive spell...other than the obvious...something that keeps me safe, but also brings down my obstacle.  _ “Well for starters, a good offense,” I finally said aloud. A couple of people not in my house chuckled, while Golightly gave a grudging nod and called on someone else ( _ Evans _ ) to give a more complete answer. 

“Lux?” Alice’s voice brought me back to the library, she and Mary stood before me with their book bags all packed up. “We can’t concentrate either,” I picked up on the inclusive keyword, “So let’s just go for now.”

“Go?” I repeated, frowning. “Go where?”

Mary pointed at the window. “Where else? Meet you outside in ten,” she shifted her bag and marched away through the aisles. 

“Grab your cloak and scarf—“ Alice was suddenly giddy. “And probably some gloves!” 

“Shh!” The librarian hissed from the next table, leering over her spectacles at us. I took the time to shoot her a look that said,  _ Where were you when they wouldn’t stop giggling? _ before I found myself gathering up my homework as well. 

I didn’t want to go outside, but I wasn’t getting any work done today. That much was obvious. Returning to Ravenclaw tower revealed that I wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to go outside, which only served to motivate me to collect my cloak, scarf and gloves before Belby could bite my head off for existing or Dork could say something derogatory about my bloodline.  _ Salazar knows Burgie’s Howler only gave her more ammunition.  _

I arrived downstairs at the same time as Mary, who was already bundled up in her scarf like a scarlet and gold mummy with tufts of straw-colored hair sticking out. 

“What?” Her muffled voice said defensively as I audibly tittered. “I get cold!”

“You don’t look any different, actually,” I scratched my nose to stall for time to arrange my face into a more neutral expression. “You’ve always looks like a member of the living dead to me.” 

“Ha,” she gestured towards the double doors. “Shall we be off, then?”

“Wait a moment!” Alice charged into us, wearing a pair of bright orange galoshes, a multicolored, knitted hat, along with what would be a normal person’s winter attire. “Your common room's are nearer the library than mine, and I almost couldn’t find ma—Mary! You look lovely, and Lux…” she paused, considering my plain appearance— _ Well, plain compared to the ‘Mummy on the Hogwarts Express’ and ‘Some-girl Over the Rainbow’ here.  _ “If your ears get cold you can borrow my hat.”

_ I would rather die.  _ “Thanks.” Before she could force the issue, I opened the door and stepped out into the snow. The stone steps had been completely trampled that morning so instead of lightly sprinkled with footprints, they could be described as a minefield of slush and death. Mary only slipped twice but fortunately she had the good sense to drag me down with her both times. Alice skipped past us in her ridiculous orange galoshes and began crafting snowballs with her hands. 

“Mary!” In a swirl of red, Evans came rushing towards us, her cheeks flushed from the cold and her emerald eyes dancing with light. “There you are! We need back-up!”

“What for?” Mary spoke to her housemate in a remarkably strained voice, as though her accent had been forced down and the whole experience was uncomfortable. 

“Potter and Black have built a snow fort and they’re pelting everyone within fifty meters of it, so I say it’s time to de-throne them,” she gave Alice and I equally fierce looks. “Are you in?”

 

Evans led us over to a small army, consisting of Marlene McKinnon, Remus Lupin, Pandora Twycross, a set of triplets from Hufflepuff and an older boy in Gryffindor whom I didn’t recognize. Pandora smiled knowingly when she saw me, stepping forward to lock her elbow around my neck. “Couldn’t resist a shot at Potter, could we?”

Having tensed up the moment she made contact I could only growl out, “Don’t touch me,” before we both turned to listen to the unrecognized Gryffindor, who seemed to be in charge. 

“I don’t know how many of you can throw a quaffle,” he began in a gruff tone. “But today you don’t have to. Today, your task consists of knocking those tossers off their high horses!” He pointed backwards at the rather formidable and tall structure, built entirely out of snowballs the size of Hagrid’s head. Someone had shoved icicles pointing out along the foundation, making a daunting approach from the ground. At its peak, I could see two idiots leering around at anyone dumb enough to pass on by. 

As the Gryffindor began to outline the plan for conquering Potter and my cousin, I had to bite my tongue as I watched the group still trying to touch the whomping willow. They skipped out of the lethal tree’s reach, only to trespass into the tower’s turf and become hailed by snowballs. Back and forth they danced and dodged, and I was entirely convinced that they couldn’t stop either venture even if they wanted to. 

“Something funny, Black?” The boy who had been speaking cleared his throat as everyone looked around at me. 

Unabashed, I nodded my head at the group I’d been observing. “I don’t know about you lot, but those guys look in desperate need of a break, wouldn’t you say?”

Their heads swiveled to watch as yet again, the willow nearly bent in half to strike the students who came too near, and just as they reached safety, became the targets of the most bored Gryffindor boys in the world. 

“Fair assessment,” said McKinnon, wincing as a boy was struck in the shoulder by a snowball, then nearly whipped across the front by a branch. “Let’s get ‘em!!”

She surged sideways, followed by Evans, Pandora and Remus. The triplets took off in the other direction, while Alice, Mary and the other boy remained at the spot, squatting to mold snowballs as fast as possible. 

Predicting that I hadn’t paid attention to a word, the boy glanced at me, “We’re keeping them busy with missiles while the others are going to try and dismantle the fort by their own means.” 

I nodded, withdrawing my wand to just conjure up the necessary amount when Alice shook her multicolored head at me. “Ah-ah! No wands! They built that thing without magic, and if they can do it so can we!” Sighing at the ridiculousness of it all, I crouched down and made an armful of snowballs. 

Minutes later I found out that Mary had insanely good aim, after she knocked Potter’s spectacles off his face. They landed on one of the icicles and out of his reach. Evans’ group seized the opportunity to run forward and claim the glasses, before they began trying to dislodge the icy spears and use them to unsettle the snow fort. Sirius and Potter, despite his blurred vision, rained snowballs down on them without pause, prompting the triplets to rush forward and do the same on the opposite side.

“Now!” Alice cried, throwing for all she was worth. She wasn’t great at this, but she didn’t let that stop her efforts. Mary, the Gryffindor boy who I think was called Frank, and myself followed her example, perhaps with better results. A few of the students who were no longer being assaulted from the tower, and had tired of their risky game began to join in. 

Even after the snow fort had crumbled, Remus switched sides and then it was most of us against the three of them. I couldn’t see an end, since nobody stopped throwing snow and ice after they’d been hit. 

Fortunately, the whole snow battle was brought to an end by a loud scream. Unfortunately, the scream had nothing to do with the snow battle. 

I was suddenly aware of the snow melting through my gloves as I turned to look at the few who had remained by the willow. One of them was curled on the ground, clutching at his head as he moaned pitifully. Alice clapped a hand to her mouth, while Frank rushed forward, followed by Evans and a few others. 

“What happened?” Mary asked me, as though I had all the answers. “Is he alright?” 

We watched in silence as Frank guided the boy to his feet and began to help him up to the castle. His scarf indicated that he was a Hufflepuff, which did nothing to help me answer Mary, but Evans had made her way back towards us. McKinnon grabbed her hand and repeated Mary’s question to her.

Evans shook her head, gesticulating at her face, specifically her eye. “He wasn’t fast enough...it struck him right across...it was so bloody…”

Alice gasped audibly, and I looked around at her. “You know him?”

She nodded. “That’s Davey Gudgeon, and he’s got hemophilia.”

“Gesundheit,” said Sirius, who had drawn closer to listen to Evans, Potter squinting around behind him. 

“It means he bleeds more than everyone else,” Remus explained quietly. “So what was he doing charging at a plant that literally tries to hit you?”

“His parents kept him inside while he was growing up,” Alice volunteered the information without hesitation, though she was so worked up her accent was getting thicker all the while. “Ever been so cooped up it drives you mad? He’s gotten a bit reckless since coming to school and I guess he-!” she broke off with a loud hiccup. Mary pulled her into a hug to comfort her, leaving the rest of us to mull over her words. Well, I was busy mulling, a few people stared at Alice as though she’d grown a second head.

“What did she say?” Potter asked, still blind and baffled. Evans withdrew his glasses from her coat pocket and moved over to return them. The minute she slid them onto his nose he locked gazes with her and muttered, “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” was the reply I thought she gave, but couldn’t be sure. It was then I realized I was eavesdropping, so I turned to walk with Sirius and Remus back up to the castle behind Alice and Mary. I spotted McKinnon start to go back for Evans so I reached out and grabbed the back of her cloak to tug her along.

* * *

The story of Davey Gudgeon and the Whomping Willow spread through the school like a disease, and just like with the burning goalpost, this particular adventure had a consequence. All students were expressly forbidden from approaching or going anywhere near the Whomping Willow, lest they nearly lose an eye like Davey Gudgeon.

Nobody questioned that rule, it made perfect sense. What made next to no sense is why they planted the tree in the first place, and it was at the top of my to-do list the moment the Christmas holidays were over and done with. 

Yes, the holidays, and while Hagrid was busy decorating the castle in the most magnificent manner, Sirius and I put our heads together and debated whether or not we should write up a will. 

“She’s going to kill me,” he whispered, not for the first or last time. He said it all week while some of the more cruel teachers gave out last minute homework, he said it at every mealtime, no matter who was listening, and he said it on the carriage ride to the train station a full week later. 

Every single time I was around to hear it, I’d say, “She’s going to kill both of us,” which in hindsight was the opposite of helpful. 

Aunt Walburga was all I had in terms of a maternal figure and she was more of a last resort than the first option. Whenever Father worked abroad, she’d taken me into her home and treated me as though I were her one of her sons...not that I’d ever wanted to be one.  Still, it was better than begging on the streets—that’s what Cissy always said, anyway. Like she understood, Uncle Cygnus spoiled his daughters like they were actually royal, and some of them * _ cough*Bellatrix*cough* _ bought into that mindset. One turned out okay though, my cousin Andi,  _ Andromeda _ , who was presently being ignored by the adults in our family because she was dating a muggleborn boy. 

_ She’d been in Slytherin though… _ I reminded myself, following Sirius to a compartment where we could slowly prepare ourselves for whatever was in store for us at the other end of the line. 

“You look glum,” observed Alice as she entered and sat beside me, not bothering to ask if she was welcome. “If you’re that concerned about homework, drop me a letter and I’ll help you.”

“Where’s Mary?” I asked, noticing the absence. 

“Well, she lives closer to Hogsmeade than King’s Cross, so it makes more sense for her parents to collect her here,” she replied simply. “Don’t change the subject: what’s got you down?”

The whistle blew and with a lurch, the train began to move along the tracks.  Potter  stumbled into the seat beside Sirius, a bright red mark on his cheek, and once settled he released what could only be described as a sigh of both delight and longing; and still Alice refused to be distracted from my issues. Why’d she have to sit with me anyway, I hadn’t invited her here--and she had plenty of friends in her own House.  _ Well maybe that’s it: she has friends and you don’t. She feels sorry for you. _

“I’m waiting.” Alice prompted, leaning forward to get a better look at my face. 

“ Piss off, Fortescue, ” Sirius spoke up, “It’s none of your business whether our Christmas holidays are--”

“Shut up,” I warned him, a bit late. Alice glanced at Sirius before turning back to face me, her lips pursed. 

“Because neither of you got into Slytherin?” she asked gently, though her expression was a bit stern. “That’s a bit unfair.”

Sirius released a cold, humorless laugh. “Pollux and I never knew the meaning of words like ‘unfair’ before coming to Hogwarts. That type of mentality doesn’t last in the most ancient and noble house of Black.” 

Alice frowned for a moment before coming to the conclusion that  _ I _ was Pollux. Until that point in time she’d only ever referred to  me  as Lux, and never had a reason to believe otherwise. Deciding that she was only preaching to a choir of dead cows, or something to that effect, she switched tact and declared, “Well, if your snob parents aren’t able to see how lucky they are to have both of you in their lives, you’d better drop by the Fortescue cottage or so help me I’ll string the pair of you up by your belts and call you drualas.”

With that, she and Sirius simmered down long enough to allow for a calm if not miserable silence to surround the four of us. If I wasn’t so concerned with what was in store for me at King’s Cross, I might’ve wondered where Remus was. But I was; so I didn’t.

While the trip to school seemed to take forever, the trip back to London seemed to pass in mere moments. Too soon we were pulling into Platform 9 ¾, too soon the students were hopping out of the doors and into the arms of their parents. All too soon…

I couldn’t be sure who was more tense as we grabbed our luggage, or as we stepped out onto the platform, scanning the adult faces in search of a specific one. 

“There,” Sirius croaked, pointing out a tall man standing beside an old house elf. Any other sound in the busy station became muffled and distant as Sirius and I drew nearer to the odd pair. 

Kreacher sneered up at the pair of us, before extending his gnarled fingers towards Sirius. “Master Black is expected at home. My mistress is waiting to speak to him, ooh yes,” he growled, his tone a cross between disgusted and delighted.  _ As far as signals go, that’s not great. _ Casting one last look at me, a single nod to the tall man, Sirius steeled his outward demeanor and took the elf’s hand, the both of them vanishing with a loud CRACK.

“Pollux,” my father said, prompting me to look up at him at last. He had very aristocratic features which I privately hoped I’d inherited, but in the moment they only added to the level of intimidation he held over me. His dark hair was flecked with gray, his silver eyes dark like storm clouds, while mine always resembled cold steel. Whatever rebuke or insult he had to give me, I was ready for it. I deserved it. I-- “Let’s go home.”

_ Great, he clearly doesn’t want any witnesses. _ I shoved down my thoughts and nodded stiffly, gripping his offered arm and closing my eyes before we Disapparated.


	6. The Beast Without

I don’t know what I expected. To be sent to my room for eternity, to be smacked around the head and neck with a broken bottle--neither happened by the way--what  _ did _ happen were quite a few days of silence. At first I thought he was waiting to put me under a false sense of security, but nothing continued to happen and it was just becoming weird. The second day home, I dared to fiddle with the piano for a few hours. I was rusty, given that I hadn’t played in several months, but the sound was comforting in the quiet of the estate. After the third day, I began to wonder if he was scared of me, and on the fourth morning I couldn’t take it any longer. 

I found him in the library, which was no small feat, given that the estate library was about as large as the dungeons of Hogwarts. He was leaning against one of the windows, scanning through some large and ancient tome that held no interest in my eyes that day. I cleared my throat to make my presence known before speaking.

“Dad…?” I swallowed. I hadn’t called him by such a familiar term in quite some time.

He grunted, looking up from his book and taking in my serious expression. “Yes?”

“I want to apologize,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. The last time I’d been so scared to speak to him had been last June, and that had resulted in a terrible argument. 

“For?” 

“For shaming myself, and you...for not being in Slytherin…” There. I’d said it. Now he could blast me to pieces.

Father closed the book and reshelved it, before he closed the gap I’d set between us and placed his hand on my shoulder. “Why on earth would you be ashamed? When Cygnus shared the news with me I felt nothing short of pride.”

I dared to look up into his face, my brow wrinkling as I did so. “Every single member of our family has been in Slytherin,” I said, wondering whether he’d forgotten this crucial piece of information and now that I’d reminded him, he’d whip out his wand and blast me. “Sirius and I are blemishes, disgraces to our namesakes.”  _ Double for Sirius, given that there are quite a few of those in the family tree. Grandfather’s the only Pollux I’m currently aware of at the moment. _

My father began to walk through the aisles, his hand still on my shoulder as he guided me through the library. “Do you know the first thing Kreacher said about you?” he asked after a long pause. I shook my head, remembering several foul things that the family elf had said  _ to _ me over the years, but couldn’t recall anything specific. “When you were younger I would travel a lot with former associates of mine, and usually that meant you’d have a prolonged stay with Burgie.” He sighed. “Sorry about that, I’m sure you’re scarred for life from those experiences. Anyway, while Orion and Burgie busied themselves with hobbies, Kreacher was often left in charge of feeding you and your cousins. Do you remember what always happened?”

“I was six, I hardly remember anything from that age,” I said, impatient for him to get to his point, despite the fact that the longer he talked the calmer I felt.

“Regulus would accept whatever Kreacher prepared, whether he liked it or not, and would always thank him politely. Sirius often demanded to be fed his favorites and would throw things just to see what would happen. Kreacher will probably never forgive Sirius for his behaviour, and he like you doesn’t remember those days at all. On the other hand, you never once gave Kreacher an order, you never accepted his service, you fed yourself with whatever was within reach and never asked for permission. It infuriated Kreacher to no end, but do you know what he told me?”

I used a phrase that caused my father to cuff me upside the head. “Ow.”

“Not quite, he said that you would be the one who would protect the others.” He allowed that to sink in, though I couldn’t quite fathom what I was supposed to glean from it. After exiting the library, he withdrew his arm from about my shoulders and folded his hands behind his back. “You’ve never been one to conform to ‘the way things are’, and your sorting was only further evidence of that. I have always been aware of your individuality, and have never expected anything less...so tell me again, why I should be ashamed of someone trying to grow into their own man?” He looked over and down his shoulder at me, one eyebrow slightly raised above the other. “Don’t let Burgie poison your mind the way she’s infected Sirius. You are my son, not hers.” 

His words had taken my childish fears and crushed them underfoot. How had I forgotten that he actually supported me—he  _ had _ allowed me to go to school, after I confessed it to be my desire. What poor excuse of a son was I? 

Images flashed across the front of my mind: Avery, Dork, Belby, Warrington, Slughorn and countless others who all saw me as Pollux  _ Black _ . Whether verbal or nonverbal, I’d been exposed ceaselessly to their unrelenting judgement...and with what to guide me through it?

My throat felt a bit blocked when I tried to use it, so I had to clear it first. I hated emotions: they’re so messy. “You didn’t write. How was I supposed to know of what you were or weren’t ashamed?”

My father paused, and I sensed guilt in his countenance now, where it had been absent previously. “Ah...I never had to be explicit in my speaking to you before. I haven’t written a personal note in so many years, I confess I failed to act. For that I must plead for your patience and forgiveness.”

He’d never speak so frankly, but I knew what he was actually admitting to: I’d always been capable of predicting his thoughts and actions when it was just us. He was an open book to me, where to everyone else he was a mystery. When I left, he realized he’d taken my companionship for granted and had no idea how to fix it. 

_ It’s a miracle he’s survived this far on his own _ , I thought with a reluctant smile, recognizing that he was still awaiting my response. “You shall have it. Happy Christmas.”

A wide grin split his normally serious face and he chortled, signaling that I could relax immediately. 

* * *

If Christmas Eve had ever been a particularly festive occasion in my family, I couldn’t remember those times. Being the oldest of his siblings, my father inherited the largest portion of land out in the countryside—it’s location a thing even I wasn’t aware of, and would only learn if I lived long enough to inherit it.

Being pillars of the pure blooded wizarding community, the Black family hosted a gathering of sorts.  _ Dragon dung—it's a party, for all the snobs that think their pedigree charts make them better than everyone else _ . Every year before, I’d been allowed to hide in the unused wings of the estate, playing games with Sirius, Andi and Regulus. This year, I was a young man starting out his education. I would be expected to attend.  _ Bombarda me.  _

On the morning of the day before Christmas, I woke up to find every window sill, every banister, each and every house elf--alive or stuffed--covered in holly, spruce and silver. The kitchens smelled like the holiday menu had exploded everywhere and when I spotted the first Christmas tree, I realized that not just Slytherin would be represented tonight. At least, we’d never used  _ blue _ trees before. The calm I’d felt with my talk with Father spread over me again as I watched the fairy lights twinkling from the branches. 

Father had presented me with a new set of dress robes for the occasion, and I could only pray that Sirius would be forced into a similar monkey suit. My cousins were the first to arrive, Bellatrix and her fiancé strutting around the ballroom as though they owned the place...and I guess, technically speaking, all they needed to do was kill the right people and it could be. Their upcoming marriage was purely political—an insurance that any heirs they produced— _ Merlin forbid— _ would be as pure and inbred as they themselves. Andromeda was suspiciously absent, but before I could inquire to a safe source about it, Narcissa came sweeping towards me across the floor—metaphorically, the only broom she’d held in her life was of the racing variety. She was lavishly dressed in a glittering gown of silver, looking every inch the young heiress. When she reached me she placed her hands on my face and pressed her stained lips to my hairline. 

Completely thrown by her brazen act of affection, I jerked away from her roughly. “What was  _ that _ for?”

“I never see you alone at school, so I couldn’t thank you for putting Warrington in his place! He’s been irritating me for years!” She traced her bottom lip with a pristinely trimmed nail. “As a young lady of virtue I couldn’t technically tell him where and how to shove it but you—!” 

“Don’t mention it,” I waved my hand dismissively. “It was nothing.” 

“Oh but it was! Really, you’ve no idea—“ I no longer paid her any attention, ducking around her gratitude to greet Orion, Burgie and Regulus. I stopped when I realized that Sirius was not with them, and knew better than to ask in front of Burgie. The last time she’d had a fit in the estate she’d broken an entire hallways worth of windows. Motioning to Reg, I led him to a safe distance from his parents. 

“Hi,” I began, because ignoring Regulus was a mistake I didn’t dare make twice. “How have you been?”

“It’s been boring without you around,” he admitted, adjusting the sleeve of his tailored monkey suit. “But at least I’ve got Kreacher.”

I remembered what my father had told me about the house elf only a few days prior and shoved it away for later. “Did they fight a lot when they found out about Sirius?” The words were barely out of my mouth and Reg had already winced. “Sorry. What did they do when he got home?”

Reg took his time answering, chewing his lip and glancing over at his parents, who were currently talking to my father. “Mother took him into the cellar and they were oddly quiet until I realized she’d shielded the place. After two hours she came back up alone, and told me that he’d decided to spend the holidays at school.”

My face twisted as I felt physically ill. “And you believed her?”

“Course not. But what was I supposed to say?” He shuffled his feet. “Sirius always tells me to not interfere where  _ she’s _ concerned...but I can take it.”

Without missing a beat, I said, “No, you can’t. If anyone asks, I ate something that didn’t agree with me, alright?” I had already started to move towards the nearest door.

“Where you going?” Regulus demanded. 

“To spend the holidays at school,” I quoted, but with earnest. Reg watched me with wide gray eyes as I left the ballroom and the growing festivities. I reached my room, packed within minutes, feeling extremely tempted to burn the monkey suit to ashes, but instead left it hanging in my wardrobe. With my luggage in hand and wand in the other, all I had to do was make it to the street and I could try calling that Knight bus thing and-

“Pollux R. Black, what on earth are you doing?” 

I turned on the spot, my stomach jumping up to hide in my ribcage as I faced Father, his expression stern. Instead of coming up with a proper explanation, I blurted, “Sirius is alone.”

I would remember later, but there was a conversation my father and I had once, nearly two years ago. We had watched wordlessly as Walburga punished Sirius, locking him in solitude for almost a week, and when we’d finally seen him again he had an ugly sort of look to him, and he was sharp with Reg, he was almost violent with me, and that was the day I think we all realized that Sirius was the last person in the world who should be left alone.  _ Hell, _ _ he convinced me that my father’s reaction would be as bad as Burgie’s, who knows what power he has over himself when there’s no one there to direct him. _

“Let’s go then,” Father crossed the remaining steps between us, pulled me close and then twisted on the spot. As the master of the house he could do cool things no one else could, like disapparate in and out of the unplottable building. The feeling of being sucked between the space of everything, making for a quick and easy journey between home and Hogsmeade--well it wasn’t comfortable but it wasn’t supposed to be. The moment I could breathe again, standing at the gates of Hogwarts, which were barely beginning to close, I rushed through and turned back to look back at my father.

“Thank you.”

“Go,” was his way of saying  _ you’re welcome _ , I hope, because in a single blink he’d returned to his party of snobs, leaving me to make my way through the snow to the castle on my own. 

Abandoning my luggage in the entrance hall--that’s where I’d left it at the start of term and it magically appeared in my room--I ran off up the stairs to where I suspected the Gryffindor common room to be. Some of the portraits were helpful, others not so much, but in the end I found myself standing before the painting of a rotund woman, indulging in a keg of mead with a young witch. 

“Excuse me? Can I get through?”

“What’s-HIC-the password?” she asked in a thick voice. She squinted down at me and I imagined that she was thinking what nearly every drunk person had thought whilst gazing at me. “Hold on now, didn’t you just enter?”

_ Yep. She thinks I’m Sirius. _ “Yes, and now I’m back. Open up, please.”

“You haven’t given the password, so I’m afraid I ca-HIC-n’t.”

I crossed my arms and pulled the most injured and Sirius-esque expression I could manage. “I most certainly did, and you’d remember that if you weren’t drunk off your rocker!”

She covered her mouth as her cheeks swelled with a burp she’d yet to release. Once it had passed, she mumbled an apology. “Oh you did? I’m so sorry, in you go.” Without another word she swung forward, her entire frame swinging like a door to reveal a hole in the wall, through which I was expected to climb. Glancing around to make sure no prefect or teacher was about to charge around the corner and slam me into detention, I shrugged and climbed on through. 

Sirius was brooding by the fireplace in a large, overstuffed armchair. In fact the entire Gryffindor common room had a simultaneously cozy yet overstuffed feeling to it. Everything was a shade of red or gold, and if I wasn’t careful I’d feel claustrophobic. Not sure what alternative I could have imagined for ‘the lion’s den’ but that wasn’t what was important.  _ In any case, I’m definitely not a Gryffindor. _

My cousin looked up when I drew near, his brooding expression surrendering to his shock that I was there in the flesh. “What the devil are you doing here?”

“Proving that anyone can get into Gryffindor Tower, apparently,” I replied with ease, claiming a spot on the spacious couch. 

“You’re supposed to be at home!”

“So are you, and look at us now.”

His face grew dark, whether by the flickering firelight or because his attitude towards me had changed, I couldn’t be certain. “I don’t need your pity!”

_ Mm. Tread carefully, or he’ll bite my hand. _ “Good for you, I didn’t come here to offer it. You hate the traditional snob party as much as I do, is it really so surprising that I’d jump at the first chance to get away?”

He glared at me for a minute longer before relaxing and leaning back in his chair. “Not in the slightest...how’d you convince the Fat Lady to let you in?”

“She took one blurry look at me and mistook my handsome face for your homely mug, the poor dear-” I wasn’t able to finish my teasing, as he’d launched himself forward and wrestled me to the floor.

* * *

As it happened, we were the sole occupants of both our houses. I suppose everyone else we knew had ‘stable homes’. This resulted in me staying in Gryffindor Tower from that first night to the 29th—which had nothing to do with the fact that I couldn’t figure out the riddle that would gain me access to Ravenclaw Tower. But after hexing Potter’s bed to collapse on anyone who snored in it and shrinking Pettigrew’s mattress several lengths—Sirius grew bored with the den and demanded we try to enter the eagles nest.

“I’ve already told you, we don’t have a password!” I warned him repeatedly, but nevertheless he persisted. Up, up to the top of the Western towers, till at last we faced off with the eagle head. Sirius knocked and it came to life. 

“ _ What walks on two legs, cries out on three legs in the dusk, and kills on four legs at night?”  _

“That’s easy,” Sirius scoffed. “Man.” He raised his eyebrows at me. “Never heard the sphinx riddle before?”

“That’s not-“ I began to say but was beaten to the punch by the knocker. 

“ _ What walks on two legs, cries out on three legs in the dusk, and kills on four legs at night?” _

“It just said-“

“It repeats the question if you get it wrong.” I said, coughing into my shoulder. “Let’s just go.”

“Fine. But we’re going to figure this out before the rest of your house gets back on Monday!” He said with determination, stomping back down the stairs. 

I glanced at the bronze figurehead, and though I was well aware that it was simply an object enchanted by the founder, much like the sorting hat, I couldn’t help but feel like we were thinking the same thing. 

We spent the remainder of the afternoon searching for another secret passageway, but between dodging Peeves—who had a gift for throwing chewed gum at our hair—and avoiding Mrs. Norris and her accusatory stare, I tried to make conversation. The more Sirius heard the sound of his or other voices the less he could brood and convince himself that it was better to be cruel like his beloved mummy. 

“What’s been going on in Gryffindor, then?” I asked after he listed his favorite teachers off—it was a very short list: McGonagall. “Feels like I haven’t seen Remus in ages.”

“You and me both,” Sirius snorted. “He keeps running on home to visit his sick mother...either she’s the frailest person in the world or he’d rather sleep in his own bed. He’s been out of the dormitory at least once a month since term began!”

“His mother's fragility might explain his initial awkwardness,” I said slowly. I allowed the statement to dangle in the air, uncomplete, both of us thinking about the unsaid question:  _ How sick does someone have to be in order to warrant a student to travel back and forth so often? _

“Maybe she’s dying,” Sirius suggested. “Dragon pox?”

I shrugged, unable to protest or agree...I was missing something, we both were...and I had the incessant feeling it was staring us in the face. 

“Well...I bet James that I could replace Flitwick's wand with a fake, so unless you want to see a professional at work, I’ll see you later, Pollux.” Sirius tossed his head, in order to flip his hair out of his face, managing to look like an idiot but in his mind it looked careless and cool. “Or should I join in with Fortescue and Twycross and call you  _ Lux?”  _

_ “ _ Do it, and I’ll start calling you  _ Rion _ ,” I said seriously. 

“Fair point,” he gave me a last nod and stalked away up the corridor. I wasn’t terribly concerned about letting him alone now—we’d had no one but each other for  _ days _ , and his mood was considerably more light and careless than it had been before. I wanted to gain access to my room, to pull something on Belby the way I’d helped Sirius prank his roommates—if it weren’t for that blasted riddle. 

Maybe I could ask Flitwick for help, he was my Head of House after all, and perhaps I’d be doing Sirius a favor by distracting the Charms teacher temporarily. 

Set, I headed towards the teachers lounge, which I found empty, so I moved on to Flitwick's office. Again, nothing.  _ Okay, maybe one of the ghosts will help me _ . But even as I walked the length of the castle to the dungeons, (I’d heard older students speak of a place where ghosts liked to hover during the holidays,) something, some movement caught my attention. 

At first I wasn’t sure what to make of it; a crawling sensation down my spine, followed by an involuntary shudder. The movement had come from outside on the darkening grounds--it being the 30th of December, the night fell sooner and longer now. Were it not for the last rays of sunlight reaching from the distant horizon, I might not have been able to see the distinct figure of Madam Pomfrey striding across the snow with purpose in every footfall. She was walking towards the Whomping Willow, which seemed to be frozen in place. As I watched the nurse, I realized that she was not alone; at her side was a young boy, with skinny legs and...and…

I pressed my forehead against the cold window, squinting. It wasn’t possible, if Remus were here I’d have known--I’d only been living in Gryffindor Tower for the last few nights, hadn’t I? And Sirius would’ve said something if he’d been cooped up in the hospital wing...unless Sirius wasn’t aware…

As I watched, the nurse and the boy I believed to be Remus, vanished at the base of the tree. I shook my head to clear it, not understanding what I’d just witnessed. What kind of business could anyone, let alone the school nurse and Remus Lupin have in a secret root cellar?

An annoying sound in my head that sounded a lot like Sirius whispered,  _ Well, there’s only one way to find out, now isn’t there? _

Before I could argue with myself or make a move towards the entrance hall, the nurse popped back up and moved away from the Whomping Willow, and this time she was unaccompanied. 

_ She killed him! _ The same, annoying and now irrational voice in my head joked, but my heart stopped beating for a moment all the same. I had questions. Too many to count, far too many to be answered just standing there. Too many to turn away now.

When Madam Pomfrey opened the front doors, I slipped out before she knew I was there. When the candlelight from the castle threatened to reveal my trespassing I claimed the shadows as my guide to the Whomping Willow; it was no longer frozen in place, but swaying slightly, though there was no wind to shake it. I tried to ignore the idea that the Whomping Willow was  _ breathing.  _

I tried to move as purposefully as I’d seen the nurse but the second I came to close the nearest limb came creaking and crashing its way down. I dodged back, withdrawing my wand and tried to think of a spell I could use on it, but it wasn’t as though Professor’s Golightly, Flitwick or Sprout had taught a seminar on it:  _ Hey kids, you know that maddeningly dangerous tree we’ve got out on the front lawn? Here’s how to disable it! _

But I remembered Professor Golightly using a spell that might work--he’d been passing by when Professor Park had accidentally dropped a stack of books. With a simple spell he’d frozen the falling volumes in place, allowing the Muggle Studies teacher to collect her things without much hassle. Praying the same principle might apply as books to branches, I pointed my wand and yelled, “ _ Immobulus!” _

The tree paused, and I ran forward without another thought, finding the opening in the roots and jumping down. 

I landed in a earthy passageway, the ground beneath my feet frozen from the cold and snow above. I pulled out my wand and muttered, “ _ Lumos, _ ” finding that the tunnel led off and away from the roots of the Whomping Willow. I steeled myself and pressed onward, but cautiously. 

After several minutes I thought I heard noises from somewhere up ahead. At first they were indistinguishable but then as I turned a corner and found myself facing a door, my ears detected whimpers and sobs from the other side. “Remus?” My voice came out in a hushed whisper, and it was only in that second I realized that I was shaking. 

I reached a hand out, ignoring the way my fingers trembled as they grasped the door. Why was I so afraid of a crying boy?  _ In the dark...in an underground room...alone…  _ I twisted the handle, acutely aware of how loudly the hinges groaned as I pushed the door inward…

“No!” Remus cried out, his back to me as he leaned against a broken chair. “Don’t look at me!”

“Remus, what-” and then it became horrifyingly clear what.

He had gone rigid, but only for a moment as his skinny little frame began to shake. From what I could see of his back, it looked as though his spine wanted to collapse and grow all at once. His head bent further so I couldn’t see his face, but that didn’t stop me from watching fur sprouting along his shoulders, down his arms and next there was a tail, tufted and brown, sticking out of his lower back. His limbs elongated and bent opposite of what human ones were meant to--he was metamorphosing into a...into a…

In a flash I could hear the eaglehead’s quiz, far away in the safety of the west tower, where I should be instead of here. “ _ What walks on two legs, cries out on three legs in the dusk, and kills on four legs at night?” _

The monster turned its amber colored eyes on me, nothing within them showing any sign of the boy I’d come to know at this wretched school. It howled, the terrifying noise bringing me back to my senses, pulling the door back and high-tailing it up the passageway. I could hear the door flying open on its hinges, the loud moan echoing up the tunnel as I ran faster and faster, my trainers pounding into the frozen earth. 

I rounded a corner and could practically feel the monsters’ breath at my neck, so I shoved my wand back behind me and sent a shower of green sparks at it.  _ Pathetic, yes, I’m aware. _ I then tried the freezing spell again, but didn’t stop to see if it worked. I had to make it to the castle if I wanted to see the new year. 

I could hear its ragged breath haunting my footsteps, but I could also see moonlight ahead. I had the idea that if I could just make it above ground, the Whomping Willow would save me. 

It might also kill me, but at the very least it would take the monster down as well. 

I summoned what energy I had left and ran up and out into the cold, frigid air, the monster right on my heels. I hadn’t sprinted three steps before a branch came out of nowhere and slammed into my ribcage, sending me flying through the air, only to land out of the willow’s reach, completely winded and probably with a broken rib or six. 

Now, this might be a weird thing to mention, but I’m told you focus on strange things when in a crisis or something. In the few seconds I lay face down in the snow, I heard voices nearby. Three of them, two boys and a girl, and for whatever reason, they weren’t aware that they weren’t alone out there.

“...what in the name of sanity are we doing at Hogwarts? Outside? In midwinter?!” one of the voices, a snide and demanding type, was saying.

“...telling you, Malfoy, I’m not entirely sure how it works yet. I’ve only done it once before and that time I wound up in Australia,” said the girl.

“Well, if you could find a way to get us back before we catch our deaths out here, that would be brilliant…” said the third voice.

The monster darted out of the Whomping Willows perimeter, snarling and scenting the air. Desperate, I lifted my head and yelled this word for the first time in my short life, “HELP!”

“What was tha--” the first voice gave a high-pitched scream. “KOWALSKI WHAT THE  HELL -”

I felt a clawed foot at my back and hot breath at my neck, and I knew it was over. I was either dead now or as good as dead later. The monster above me would tear me limb from li-

A thunderous roar filled the air, and I could feel the monster at my back freeze at the sound. In my peripheral I saw it look up, ears flat, and emit a low growl from deep within its chest. I dared to look at the thing that intimidated it so, and could hardly believe my eyes. 

An enormous feline stood meters from where I was pinned, both by the monster and my own injuries. It’s tan fur stood on end in the effort to make itself appear bigger, its fangs bared as its long tail lashed side to side. That was all I was able to register before it charged, releasing another roar from its very soul, it seemed, until the monster was forced to move away from me. The feline gave chase, or at least I thought it was; I didn’t dare move in my injured state. I was forced to depend on my ears as both creatures struggled to assert dominance. 

Dimly I was aware of the voices from afar, just the guys now. “WHEN WERE YOU GOING TO MENTION SHE COULD DO THAT?!”

“To be perfectly honest, I hadn’t planned on telling you at all. Should we check on the kid?”

“I thought we weren’t supposed to interfere, and I BEG YOUR PARDON!?”

“She seems to have a pretty skewed definition of ‘interfering,’ so if you won’t help, stay here.” 

Aside from the noises of the monster and feline facing each other, I heard the crunch of snow as one of the guys drew nearer to where I lay, feeling shattered. “Who are you?” I demanded, despite the fact that my voice sounded worse than old hinges. 

“Don’t worry about that,” the guy said calmly. “I’m going to conjure up a stretcher for you, alright? Hold still.” He talked to me as though he watched dangerous beasts fight one another under the full moon all the time. In minutes I was on my back, on a magically summoned stretcher that floated in mid-air. “You’re a first year, yeah? What are you doing outside this late?”

“Theo!” the second guy had approached, and he sounded both scared and impatient. “Who cares what he was doing--what in the name of Merlin is  _ she _ doing?!”

The one who helped me, Theo, was forced to turn to look off in the distance. I craned my neck to see the beast and the monster, no longer fighting, (though the feline was rather scratched up,) but sniffing one another, as though they hadn’t just tried to rip one another's throats out. 

“It looks like she’s calming him down,” Theo observed, obviously not as perturbed as the other guy thought he should be. 

“How long have you known about this??” the other guy demanded. “That she could do--that?!”

“Couple of months now,” Theo replied with a shrug. “She’s been able to do that since she was fourteen. Taught by a man who studied at Uagadou…”

“Excuse me,” I interrupted harshly. “I’m only going to ask this one more time, _ who are you people _ ?!”

Both guys ignored me, which I did not appreciate. After several more minutes, the feline returned, and before my eyes it transformed into a girl with long, sand-colored hair, similar to the fur of her inner beast. 

“We’d better get him inside,” she said, nodding at me and my stretcher. She jerked suddenly and touched a hand to her jeans pocket. All of them were wearing odd clothing for a stroll around the frozen black lake at this hour--the guys only wore light jackets while the girl had no protection from the cold whatsoever. She had to be freezing in her t-shirt. “Scratch that, we don’t have time.” She pulled a long wand--the longest wand I’ve ever laid eyes on, out of her back pocket and waved it over me. Without a single spell falling from her lips, my ribcage felt very hot, and then very cold--even more so than when I’d landed in the snow. “That should hold you together until morning, but I’d pay Madam Pomfrey a visit, just to be on the safe side.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but absolutely no words came out. I had never been speechless until then, and wasn’t sure what the proper protocol was. But evidently, I didn’t have to worry, as the stretcher was suddenly moving away, towards the castle but not the front doors. In fact, I was headed for one of the windows of the west wing.  _ How had she known I was a Ravenclaw? I’m not even wearing my uniform!  _ I twisted as much as I dared to look back at the three of them, but as I did so, all of them disappeared into thin air. 

Once safely inside the castle, at the foot of the spiral staircase, I gingerly got to my feet, but my bones, specifically my ribs, all seemed to be intact. Automatically, I marched up the tower to the eaglehead, who coughed out the question I suddenly had the perfect answer for.  _ I’d just lived it, actually. _

“ _ What walks on two legs, cries out on three legs in the dusk, and kills on four legs at night?”  _ the knocker almost sounded remorseful, which was impossible, it was part of a door and doors were not capable of feelings.

I wished I were a door. 

I allowed a heartbeat to pass...two...ten...until finally: “A werewolf.”

 


	7. Fera Magicae

_ Malfoy...Kowalski...Theo... _ Three names I’d heard, one after the other...and I’d only heard of one of them before. The Malfoy’s were a pureblood family from France, their only son had graduated from Hogwarts a few years ago. It might’ve been a relative to that specific branch, but there was no way to be certain. 

Kowalski...That was a Polish name. So why had it’s owner spoken with an American accent? I’d only seen three Americans in my life, they’d been lost in Muggle London and spoke very loudly as they stumbled around. I’d been walking with Narcissa and Andromeda at the time and they’d cautioned me to keep walking, ignoring all else. 

As for Theo...there was no way that was a surname. He could’ve been anyone. But they saved my life, even the whining one. 

It was just as well that I’d finally gotten myself into my own dormitory. I needed time to process everything that had occurred, and I didn’t sleep a wink that night. I lay on my bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling enchanted to reflected the full moon far above, only now I understood more in-depth what that meant. 

Remus Lupin...the timid kid I’d stumbled upon on the Hogwarts Express back in September...was a werewolf.

He almost killed me last night...but I had been saved by three people who refused to surrender their identities...and had the supernatural ability to disappear at will.  _ Not to mention, one of them was an Animagus. _ A powerful Animagus that had tamed a bloodthirsty werewolf. Hadn’t they been afraid of contamination? The girl, Kowalski, she’d suffered scratched on her right arm--I’d seen…

I blinked, frowning slightly as I remembered her right forearm. That hadn’t been skin glowing in the moonlight...perhaps a glove? Anyway. How had she known what to do? Without pause, without any question, she jumped to come to my aid. What kind of person could be possessed by such selflessness yet command so great a power?

Around mid morning I received an owl from Sirius wondering where I was, and that he wanted to meet in the Soldier’s tunnel. (That’s what we’d dubbed the secret passageway and— _ Oh no, Sirius. I have to tell him about Remus _ .) Didn’t I? If one of my roommates was secretly changing into a manticore or dragon every half moon I’d sure like to know about it. The faces of Quirinus, Roy and Damocles flashed before my minds eye, and I silently decided that there was no world where any of them would transform into anything remotely dangerous. 

Dragging myself out of Ravenclaw Tower, I made my way to the hidden tunnel, finding Sirius already there, pacing in agitation. “There you are! Come here!” He grabbed me by the arm and tugged me down the hidden stone steps, only stopping when he forgot about the trick stair. Stuck halfway through the stone, he glared up at me, daring me to laugh. 

“Was there something you wanted to talk about?” I managed to ask, though I was far from amused. The weight of what I’d come to tell him was too great for any kind of merriment. 

“Yes. And I wanted to be away from any listening ears, even the ghosts and the bleeding paintings like to gossip! Help me up-!”

I considered him, up to his waist in stairs. “In a moment. Talk first—I’m not walking all the way to the village with you.” 

“Are you kidding? I don’t think you understand how uncomfortable this is!” He place his hands on the steps behind himself and tried to hoist the rest of his legs up, but to no avail. It mildly occurred to me what a horrible death trap this situation could be: what would happen if I just left him there?

“Best to talk quickly then,” I suggested. 

“Pollux, I’m being serious here,” said Sirius. 

“Aren’t you always?” I wasn’t sure where this devil-may-care attitude was coming from, but I couldn’t stop myself. “Shout any louder and both the villagers and the castle ghosts will hear you.”

He seethed for a moment, and if he breathed any harder he’d be in danger of steam coming out of his nose. “It’s about Remus.”

I stilled, remembering vivid moments from last night. “Go on.”

“I think he’s a werewolf.” I opened my mouth, closed it, and then let it fly open again.  Sirius raised his hands placatingly. “I know, it sounds crazy but after what I just heard there’s nothing else that makes any-“

“There isn’t. He is; but how do you know that?” I demanded, finding my voice at last. Now it was Sirius’s turn to gape at me. 

“How do I-? How do you-?!”

“I saw him!” I snapped impatiently. “He was out of control, too, wanted to rip my head off!” 

“You saw…” that one took a proper minute to sink in before he slammed the heels of his hand into his eyes. “Of course he wanted to rip your head off—werewolves don’t have any control!! But then—”

“Hang on, you haven’t explained how you figured it out. Yesterday you had no idea!”

He nodded, lowering his hands. “I was up early, and felt a bit antsy—everyone starts coming back tomorrow and I wanted to pull one last prank so I starting working on the suits of armor all along the fifth floor—and that’s when I heard someone crying. I thought it might have been the ghost who haunts that girls toilet, so I hid in a broom closet—don’t look at me like that—and I heard the nurses voice asking what hurt, and that’s when I heard Remus—he was the one crying—and he said, ‘I woke up covered in someone else’s blood.’ ‘I can’t believe I bit someone.’ And then he went on about how he was going to be expelled and all until they were far enough to where I couldn’t hear him anymore.”

I remembered the girl, Kowalski, who had been injured by the werewolf. I hadn’t considered the notion that Remus might wake up and find his hands and possibly face colored red. Who wouldn’t panic in that situation? 

“Did he bite you?” Sirius asked suddenly.

“No! Not for lack of trying, mind you, but no...I got help.”

“ _ Help?! _ ” he looked up at me, floored from the waist down. “Who? How?”

“I have no idea,” I said honestly. “Three people I’ve never seen before, th-they came out of nowhere and Remus fought with one of them.”

“So he bit them?”

“No...I don’t think so…” I wanted to mention the details, the fact that the girl who had saved me, dissuaded a raging werewolf from killing me, had done so in the form of a feral beast I had yet to identify. An Animagus. But there were some questions I wanted to answer first, before I got anyone’s hopes up. “She was only scratched.”

“ _ She _ ? You must’ve gotten a good look, could you find them again?”

“I didn’t find them--they stumbled upon me. And it was dark from where I was lying, I didn’t see any of their faces.”  _ Only partial names...which I’m not sharing again because..? _

“Were they students?”

“I don’t know.”

“Were they aurors?”

“What would aurors be doing at Hogwarts fighting off werewolves?” I asked impatiently. “No, they were definitely teenagers.”

“You just said they weren’t students-”

“I don’t know  _ what _ they were, can we focus on Remus for now?”

Sirius sighed deeply. “Yeah, alright. We should probably tell him he didn’t bite anyone-”

“Sirius, if he wanted people to know about his affliction, he wouldn’t have lied about it. If we tell him now, he might leave school purely based on fear of widespread discovery!” In that respect, I had given it a great deal of thought.  _ Remus _ might remember that it was I who had discovered him right before he’d transformed, but for all he knew, he’d imagined it. His human eyes hadn’t actually seen me. I could manage that: what I couldn’t manage was a scared little boy who thought it was only a matter of time before rumors about him began to flood the school. If he had trouble making friends now, he’d fall to the very bottom of society, avoided and neglected, which was the exact opposite of my desires for him. “He’s gone through a lot of effort to keep it a secret...Madam Pomfrey knows...I’ll bet you anything Dumbledore’s in on it. The Whomping Willow though...that’s an odd-” I broke off as the realization struck like lightning. The violent tree, the only one in the world who hits  _ back _ , that was meant to keep people away from the hidden path, the one that would lead to a werewolf… If only I’d seen that as the truth last night.  _ Well, if I had, I wouldn’t have encountered Kowalski, Malfoy and Theo. Though I’m still wary of that whole affair… I need the library. _

Unthinkingly I went to climb the staircase, but was immediately brought to a halt by Sirius grabbing my ankle. “Just where do you suppose you’re running off to, hm? Help me up!”

* * *

Madam Sinestra kept checking in on us as we toiled away in her library that afternoon. Unable to shake Sirius, I had no choice but to bring him along, ignoring the way he scoffed every time I selected a new book. As the hours passed, he gave up his weak protest and began to rifle through one of the many volumes I’d discarded.

“That one’s no good,” I warned him as he started to discover the more graphic illustrations. “That only tells you how to kill one.”

“Why are you researching werewolves when you can just talk to a real one?” he asked, shuddering as he slammed  _ Be Wary of the Wolf _ shut. 

“I doubt Remus knows much about his condition, given that he essentially blacks out every full moon. If we’re to be any use for him, there has to be a way to help him keep his head, and hopefully one of these books will tell us.” I explained, before pushing away another book and reaching for a new one. 

“We don’t even know if taming a werewolf on the full moon is possible,” Sirius argued. “And even if it were, what would be the accomplishment?”

“It  _ is _ possible. I know it is. I just don’t understand how…”

“What did you see last night?” he asked suddenly. “I don’t understand from where all this certainty is flowing.”

I shook my head. “If I talk about it I’ll have to relive it, and I can’t promise wanting to help Remus after doing that…” I trailed off, my eyes scanning the bookshelves. What was I missing? There was a clue from the night before, I knew it, about the girl and her beast and… In a rush I remembered what the helpful one, Theo, had said:  _ She’s been able to do that since she was fourteen. Taught by a man who studied at Wagadoo… _ Wagadoo. Wagadoo? What in the name of Merlin’s hat was a wagadoo? 

Whatever it was, it had to be very powerful to aid someone to rise to Animagus-level magic by age fourteen. That was only two...nearly one year away from where I was sitting. How soon had she started her training? If it was the standard age of eleven...then even I stood a chance… But what was the point in becoming one? What if I didn’t want to be stuck as one animal for the rest of my life? I could change into a fox and then as I grow older, decided I wanted to be a hawk, but was already trapped in the body of a fox? 

I don’t know why I was so worried about something hypothetical; and anyway with my luck I’d probably turn into a toad. 

“Are you even listening to me?” Sirius demanded, snapping me out of my thoughts. 

“Not a word, summarize whatever it was you just ranted on about.” 

“I was only underlining the fact that as first years we have nothing we can do for Remus, regardless of whether or not we tell him that we know what he is...and I don’t have a clue what you’re looking for but you won’t find it in a dusty old library.” He jumped to his feet, as if he had a plan, and yet knowing him I was well aware that it was only half-cooked. “We’ll think better on our feet. Let’s go for a walk.”

I reluctantly agreed, first insisting on replacing the books where I’d found them, and following my cousin out of my usual safe haven and out onto the grounds. While he’d mentioned a casual walk, Sirius marched through the snow with purpose, though giving the Whomping Willow a wide berth. I glanced at the tree uneasily, with a greater knowledge of its purpose on the Hogwarts grounds. Just over twelve hours ago I’d raced from between its roots, from the hidden path concealed therein, running for my life from a friend trapped inside a monster. 

I looked to the back of Sirius’s head as we neared a cabin at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. He knew a thing or two about feeling trapped. We both did. I liked to think that I was wiser in my actions, trying to claim small victories and freedoms here and there. Sirius on the other hand believes in...what is the phrase… ‘Go big or go home’, and he certainly avoided going home.

_ Can’t say I blame him. I’d never go home if all that was waiting for me was Walburga. _ But he had more than that; he had a little brother whom we both wanted to shield from that devilwoman, and a father who...well, not even my father liked Orion Black. What kind of man allowed his wife to reign terror over his family--both close and extended?

_ That’s why I’m never getting married _ , I vowed silently. 

Sirius marched right up to the front door of the wooden house and pounded upon it three times. He was answered by loud, booming barks of some massive dog from the underworld, and a great deal of bustling about as someone with a deep voice approached the door. Sirius hopped down the steps to dodge the door as it came swinging open and an enormous boarhound bounded down after him, jumping up to latch its paws about his shoulders and lick his face off. I looked up into the face of the gamekeeper, Hagrid, who I hadn’t paid any attention to after he led us across the lake that first night. So  _ this _ is where he resided. 

“Gerroff ‘im, Fang!” he told the dog, who happily changed targets and came after me. I admit to not thinking, (after last night’s chase) I completely panicked and ran in the opposite direction, which only gave the dog further encouragement in his pursuit. 

I knew it was a dog. I knew he probably had no ill feelings towards me. None of that mattered as the damn dog chased me ‘round the pumpkin patch. 

“Pollux, he won’t hurt you!” Sirius was laughing, and I cursed him for it, but had to conserve my breath for surviving, rather than replying. As I circled the patch again, the dog leaped in my path to cut me off, when a large hand the size of my torso gripped the scruff of my cloak and hoisted me into the air.

“Calm down! ‘E’s a ruddy coward, Fang is, ‘e only wants ter play.” Hagrid told me, trying to soothe and edify and failing at both. 

“Hagrid, he’s just afraid of dogs,” Sirius lied. I suppose he caught onto why I’d been spooked, even without my having to explain to him the events of last night. “But that’s not important. I had a question for you. Can you let Pollux back down, please?”

Hagrid set me back on the ground, turning to look at Sirius. “What is it, eh?”

“Are there werewolves in the Forbidden Forest?” I glared at my cousin around Hagrid’s back.  _ Just tell the whole school while you’re at it--announce it at the next feast why don’t you?? _

“There’s a few,” Hagrid shrugged. “Not plannin’ ter go lookin’ fer ‘em, are yeh?”

“Noooooo,” said Sirius unconvincingly.

“Yeh’d be wise to keep yerself within Hogwarts grounds, both o’ yeh,” he nodded back at me. I was having a hard time listening, as Fang was licking my fingers. His breath on my hand reminded me of the puffs of hot air at my neck only last night…

“Have you ever run into one?” Sirius asked, bringing my mind back to the matter at hand. I was beginning to understand why he’d wanted to talk to Hagrid now. Why struggle to figure out what to do with a werewolf, when you can ask somebody who has already--probably--faced one or three? “Does Fang protect you?”

“Fang wouldn’t protect me from a rat, nevermind a werewolf,” Hagrid shook his head. “But he’d have no reason ter be alarmed by the werewolves in there, anyway...werewolves don’t hunt other animals like dogs or centaurs or hippogriffs. They’re dangerous creatures, but they respect intelligent animals, or rather they’re disinterested in them. The only prey a werewolf craves is a human.”  _ So if say someone was in the shape of an intelligent animal, a werewolf would have no quarrel with them, except that she was defending me, the prey...which is why she got injured. But she tamed him anyway...even convinced him to return to the room beneath the tree...how!?  _ Sirius apparently had no further questions, and now Hagrid was looking between the two of us with a mask of growing disconcertation. “I shouldn’t ‘ave said that.” 

“No, no you said just enough,” I muttered, catching Sirius’s eye. We probably had an answer. It was a great answer...but there was no way to know if it was entirely good. 

* * *

We agreed to keep our lips sealed as the rest of the student body returned to school the following day, and spent the next few weeks trying to find a recipe, a guidebook, or some degree of research that would show us the way forward. I even asked Professor Golightly to sign a permission slip, giving me access to the library’s restricted section. (I figured of all the teachers, he’d be the most likely to grant my request without much questioning.)

“Does this have to do with your recent homework assignment?” he asked, eying the permission form I’d laid at his desk. 

“I didn’t feel I’d properly grasped the concept; and the only way to quell the distress in my mind would be to perform more in-depth research,” I said with ease, my expression a cross between aristocratic boredom and innocent curiosity. 

The one-eyed professor held my gaze for a full minute before inking his quill and signing the form. “I’d tread carefully if I were you, some of your other teachers are looking for an excuse to give the first years more schoolwork and if they hear that you’ve got enough free time for this...you won’t earn any points with your classmates.”

“I don’t owe my classmates anything,” I said dismissively, before thanking him for his permission and stalking away to the library. 

I spotted Alice and Mary at our usual table, but before I could respond to their friendly waves, I was accosted by Sirius and Potter. My cousin grabbed the back of my robes and dragged me into the section on goblin history. 

“Did you find anything?” He asked, apparently ignorant of Potter’s presence. 

“What do you mean?” I said tactfully, glaring over at the bespectacled boy. 

“Oh don’t worry about him,” Sirius waved a hand. “He’s on our side. He wants to do this as well, and he’s better at Transfiguration than me anyway so-“

“Why thank you, Sirius,” said Potter smugly. 

“Shut up, I’m better than you at practically every other subject.”

“Untrue, we’re both terrible at Herbology.”

“You told him?” I hissed, slicing through their banter. “You swore you wouldn’t tell a soul!”

“James doesn’t count,” Sirius insisted. “What’s that?” He snatched away my permission form and held it up to the light. “Aha, nicely done! James thinks he knows which book in there will be the most informative. We were about to just nick it ourselves, but-“

“What, sneak into the restricted section in broad daylight?” I said skeptically. “Even  _ you  _ aren’t that daft,” I directed the statement at Potter, who wore a cocky grin I absolutely loathed. 

“I’ve got insurance,” he said simply, tapping his bookbag knowingly. 

“But thanks to your ingenuity,” Sirius seemed to be ignorant to the silent war I was declaring against Potter, “we can be the polite and well-mannered children my mother never believed I could be.” Taking the form back, I asked through grit teeth the name of the book for which I was to look. 

“It’s called  _ Fera Magicae _ and most of it will be written in Latin.” Potter said, raising both eyebrows above the frame of his glasses. 

“Not an issue,” Sirius and I stated at the same time. I’d undergone rigorous tutoring since I was five, Sirius through the same at age seven. We spoke three languages, two of our choosing, so long as one was Latin. We’d learned a plethora of other subjects, whether or not they all stuck depended on how useful each turned out to be. For example, they didn’t have a music room in Hogwarts that I’d discovered yet. 

“Oh. Well then.” Potter sniffed. “Off you go.”

Madam Sinestra leered at me over the desk before she stalked back into her precious restricted section to find the book, and upon returning, I was surprised that she had not used magic to carry it, as I most certainly would.  _ Fera Magicae _ was the size of three dictionaries stacked atop one another. I’m certain my eyes were as large as dinner plates when she handed it to me, sneering as I grunted with the effort to remain standing, let alone stagger away with it in my arms. 

“You got it!” Potter exclaimed eagerly as I reached where he and Sirius were hiding. I grumbled mutinously under my breath before repositioning the massive thing in my arms. 

“We should probably move this particular ‘study group’ elsewhere,” Sirius cautioned, glancing over at my usual spot, where Mary and Alice were eying us curiously. 

“We could go to the Soldier’s tunnel,” suggested Potter. 

So off we went, until I raised the point that Remus knew about the tunnel, and there was always a chance he might find us there. We stood stupidly in the middle of the corridor, trying to settle on another option when there was a scuffle near the windows. 

A group of Slytherin boys were tossing a stray wand high over their heads as a small, pudge of a boy jumped as high as he could in an effort to reclaim it. “Give it back, Mulciber!”

I looked around at that, because where Mulciber was— “I don’t know, Petty, you’re the one who dropped it in the first place,” —an Avery was sure to follow. “Clearly you aren’t capable of taking care of it.”

“I didn’t drop it!” The chubby boy cried. “One of you used a tripping hex!”

“Or you’re just terribly clumsy,” said Snape, flicking his wand at the boy. “ _ Flipendo!” _

Sirius, Potter and I had moved closer, and when Snape used the spell, Sirius and Potter already had their wands out. “ _ Currit nasus!” _ cried Potter, jabbing his wand at Snape. 

With a loud POP, Severus Snape’s own nose dropped off his face and began to scoot away down the corridor. He had no choice but to give chase while Sirius laughed, before disarming Mulciber, who had hold of the chubby boy’s wand. 

“Anyone ever tell you, Black,” Avery jeered, taking an unnecessarily large step towards me, “you have a gift for selecting the wrong people?”

“Anyone ever tell you, Avery,” I replied whilst holding my ground and dropping  _ Fera Magicae _ on his foot, “that you have a gift for overstepping yourself?”

Avery howled and staggered away, favoring his other foot and tripping on his own robes. The rest of the Slytherin group gave Sirius, Potter and I wide-eyed looks before they made themselves scarce like smoke on the wind.

The boy was returned his wand, gazing up at the three of us like we’d just walked on water, and I swear he was on the verge of tears. “Thank you!”

“Peter, how long have they been bullying you?” Potter’s tone was suddenly serious, as if he actually cared about someone else. 

“Not long...I think they come around when they’re bored in their own common room,” the so-called Peter got to his feet and dusted off his robes. “So a lot when it began to snow.”

“We share a dormitory,” began Sirius, speaking to Peter the way he spoke to Regulus at times. “How have we never heard about this before now?”

_ Well, _ I reflected silently,  _ you also have a roommate who turns into a werewolf once a month, so a little boy getting bullied might have slipped under the radar.  _ But I had another thing bothering me about Sirius’s question. “Hang on,  _ he’s _ a Gryffindor?”

The three of them turned on me, and if looks could kill I’d be seriously injured. “What’s that supposed to mean?” demanded Potter.

I picked up the massive book,  _ lift with the knees _ , and shrugged as best as I could under its weight. “Nothing. I’ve never seen him before, that’s all.” I then coughed into my shoulder, earning a silent glare from Sirius, who knew what that meant.

“I’ve never seen you either, to be fair. Maybe we’ve just been looking in the wrong direction?” the boy named Peter offered good-naturedly. “My name is Peter Pettigrew, and you’re Sirius’s cousin, aren’t you?”

“My name is Pollux,” I clarified, keeping my tone neutral as Sirius and Potter still wore protective expressions. It was clear that this Pettigrew was the ‘underdog’ type in the Gryffindor dormitory, and they hadn’t saved him from ten bullies to subject him to one more. I had no reason to bully him anyway, he wasn’t exactly a threat.

“Did you say ‘Pollux’?” he asked, and for a moment I wondered if he was half-deaf.

“Yes.”

“Oh good, because that’s  _ not _ what I heard,” he said cheekily, a small grin spreading across his dumpling cheeks. Sirius snorted loudly, and just as tensions were beginning to fade, Pettigrew had to go and ruin it by tapping the mother of all encyclopedias in my arms. “So what’s this for?”

“We were looking for a good place to read its contents,” Potter volunteered that information freely, while Sirius and I were united in being more on guard. “Somewhere out of sight, you know?”

Pettigrew nodded. “Have you tried the room behind the mirror on the fourth floor? I only discovered it before December when Mulciber and his gang first started picking on me.”

That captured Sirius’s interest and the battle was lost before I could even start it. “Lead the way.”

Looking delighted at a chance to be useful, Pettigrew led us to the mirror, which indeed opened once pushed upon. The room on the other side was considerably smaller than the Soldier’s tunnel, but it was no wonder it had avoided detection this long. I’d found the tunnel purely on clumsy footing and surprise—one had to wonder why Pettigrew had thought to push against a mirror to escape. 

“How did you find this?” Potter asked. 

Pettigrew shrugged. “I was trying to pull the frame away, thinking I could hide behind it...but then when I went to steady the surface—it gave way.”

Sirius ducked inside, waving at me to follow him. Already sensing this was about to become my least favorite place in the world, I followed after him, clutching the book and crouching low, Potter and Pettigrew on my tail. 

“Don’t tell me he knows too,” I growled to Sirius, jerking my head back at Petticoat. 

“I didn’t tell him anything,” he said earnestly. “But he found this place.”

“We don’t owe him anything.”

“Erm, if I could interject?” Pettigrew cleared his throat. “I know an ancient text when I see one, and if you’re planning on finding Lupin a cure—”

“A cure?” Potter repeated. 

“For his mother’s illness? I’m worried about him too, you know,” said Pettigrew innocently. 

I sighed deeply. He didn’t know anything about Remus. But that was about to change. “Peter, his mother isn’t the one getting sick--it’s Remus. And there is no cure!”  _ Good job, Sirius, make him sound like he’s dying. _

“He’s dying?!” Pettigrew gasped.  _ There it is.  _ “That’s horrible!”

“Don’t be daft, he’s just a werewolf.”  _ Oh Potter, you insensitive little  _ _ son of a witch. _

“HE’S A WHAT?!” I slammed by hand over Pettigrew’s mouth before he could tell the entire castle about his infected roommate. 

“He’s a werewolf, and we might have found a way to help him, and if you swear to keep your silence about it I won’t have to try out a memory charm here and now.” 

“Memory charms are seventh year material,” Potter started, but whatever his argument was, it died in his throat. I like to think he didn’t doubt I would at least try and see what happened: he’d survived Sirius this long anyway. 

Pettigrew bobbed his head up and down. “You want me to try?” He shook his head side to side vigorously. “You’ll keep your mouth shut?” Another series of nods. “Good. Can you read Latin?” He shook his head. “Perfect. Sit in the useless corner with Potter.” 

I removed my hand, sat with my back against the wall and opened up  _ Fera Magicae _ . As I scanned it’s contents for the correct material, I overheard Sirius’s efforts to placate his friends. “He doesn’t mean it, well, he does, but he’s not a people person and we kind of outnumber him and he doesn’t like that.” 

“And anyway, there’s nothing he can do that we can’t protect you from, Peter.” Potter added confidently. “He’ll grow on you, like toe fungus, and you just get used to it.” 

_ I’m surrounded by idiots.  _ Six hundred pages into the volume I finally found what we were looking for. “ _ Animagi.  _ Here it is,” the three Gryffindor s looked up and over. 

“Well? How hard can it be?” Potter had a challenge somewhere in th at question but I ignored it. For now. 

“To begin with, it issues all sorts of cautionary tales about wizards and witches who tried to become Animagi and failed with disastrous results...there’s even an illustration of one native who got stuck in his animal shape...ugh.”

“What?” Pettigrew asked as they scooted closer to look over my shoulder at the sketch. “What is-EW!”

Potter covered the crude illustration with his hand, so as to better ignore it. “What else does it say?”

“It explains the differences between Transfiguration and Animagi,” Sirius said, though his translation was a bit rough. “Like I could transfigure a goblet into a pigeon but that doesn’t make the goblet an Animagus...Transfiguration is a form of spell-casting, whereas becoming an Animagus is forever; its a skill that you’ll always have until death.”

“Cool,” said Potter.

“But it also warns that you can’t choose your Animagus form, as it is closely linked to your personality. It could also embody a distinguishing feature of your human self--something that would set your Animagus apart from the regular kind...well, that shouldn’t be much of a problem.” I sat back, meeting each pair of eyes individually before resting on that of my cousins. “Are you sure? This won’t be easy, and it’ll take time.”

“Well,” Sirius gave a careless nod. “Best get started right away then.”


	8. As Time Goes By

_ September 1st, 1972 _

Sat between Pandora and Roy, I watched as Hagrid marched the first years into the great hall, among them my other cousin, Regulus. He’d sat with me on the train, but then our compartment was invaded by Mary Macdonald, Alice Fortescue, Lily Evans and Severus Snape. I think the last two sought refuge from Sirius and his gang, but I hadn’t forgotten Snapes treatment towards others like Peter last year so I pointedly ignored him. Mary and Alice scolded me thoroughly for neglecting to write over the summer, and I had no satisfactory answers with which to placate them. Even if I wanted to list excuses, my speech was limited due to the Mandrake leaf residing in my mouth, where it had to stay for another few days. (I might have miscalculated my days when I’d began the venture at the beginning of August.) The other three were determined to do all the steps and spells and meditations together but I’d done my summer reading and skipped ahead. When Regulus spotted the leaf in my mouth for the first time I’d told him Sirius and I were in the middle of a stupid dare—which was true, technically. 

“Black, Regulus!” Bringing my subconscious back to the present, I watched as Regulus sat upon the stool and allowed the old hat to be placed on his head. 

Sirius and I hadn’t discussed or speculated on Regulus’s placement. He was too much like uncle Orion for there to be much debate, but I knew in our hearts we wanted him to join either of our houses. 

I’d anticipated the hat to shout out his house immediately, as it had been so quick to decide where Sirius and I would belong, but it remained on his head, silently, for a full ten seconds before it called out, “SLYTHERIN!” 

Regulus rose from the stool, handed the hat back to McGonagall, and approached the cheering table under the emerald and silver banner. I looked over at the next table, Gryffindor, and spotted the lazy grin on Sirius’s face. I mirrored it knowingly, as it was the best we could have reasonably hoped for…

The Sorting Hat might never be wrong, but tonight it hesitated...and that was enough.

* * *

  
  


_ September 21, 1972 _

“Thanks for coming with me,” Alice spoke in a rush, scanning the dozens of people assembled on the pitch. “I don’t particularly care for flying, but Mary wanted someone here to support her and being here now I can see why--so many want to play Chaser or Beater...I hope she’s not nervous.”

“She’ll do better if she is,” I replied, spotting the blonde Gryffindor and pointing her out to the Hufflepuff seated beside me. For a second year, she looked pretty confident standing amongst the taller fourth, fifth and sixth years, though I noticed how she bounced from one leg to the other, as though she could stamp her fears into the grass. All she needed was for someone to play a fiddle and she could perform a Scottish jig.

“If you say so,” Alice watched as the Gryffindor tryouts began, I was momentarily distracted by Pettigrew and Remus claiming the seats behind us. There was a full moon tomorrow, and Remus looked like he was going to vomit on Alice any second. 

“Hello Lux, Alice--here to watch Sirius and James?” said Pettigrew, his watery eyes squinting as the first wave took off around the field. For all his ego, Potter had the skill to back it up. Not to mention, he and Sirius hadn’t pranked each other in several days so there was hope that they could get through the evening without setting anything on fire.

“Mary, actually,” I answered, hiding a grin as I spotted her passing Sirius around the goalposts. “Alright, Remus?”

Remus nodded, though the weak grunt coming from his throat was not encouraging. For a brief moment, his eyes looked gold, but the effect vanished as quickly as it came. I shivered and turned back to watch the tryouts. Despite my intentions to turn Remus’s horrible condition into a better experience, I had suffered nightmares at the end of last term. Visions of some ghastly creature with glistening fangs lurking out of the corner of my eye, its breath at my neck, and its powerful claws tearing through my flesh…

As much as the full moon was a big deal for my ill-looking friend, tomorrow’s full moon was a big deal for me as well. The mandrake leaf challenge completed, I now had to spit the leaf in a phial within range of the pure moonrays, and then add one of my own hairs, a silver teaspoon of dew that has not seen sunlight (collecting and hiding  _ that _ was a challenge,) or been touched by human feet for seven days, (also strange but do-able) and the chrysalis of a Death’s-head Hawk Moth, ( _ yeah, no idea where to get that. _ ) Then the potion would have to be put in a quiet, dark place and not be disturbed in anyway, ( _ I was thinking the Soldier’s tunnel, or at least the Never-Mirror.) _ Then, while waiting for an electrical storm,  _ which, let’s face it, hardly happens at Hogwarts during the winter _ , I would have to perform a strange chant at sunrise and sundown without fail, and if I messed up any part of this I’d have to start all over again. Mandrake leaf in the mouth and all.

I couldn’t understand why Sirius thought it was better to do it with other people, when I still didn’t have the patience for them. 

During the lightning storm, I would recite the incantation one final time, and then drink the potion. In the meantime, I’d keep up with my meditations, chasing after the glimpse of what kind of animal I would transform into. I hoped it wouldn’t be something useless, like a fish. It might be cool to be a bird of some kind, like an owl or a falcon, but in my reflections so far, I’d felt pulled towards a mammal of some kind. 

“Sirius said you’d helped him practice over the summer,” Pettigrew was speaking to me, bringing me out of my thoughts for my near future. “Are you going to try out for the Ravenclaw team?”

“I wasn’t planning on it...not for this year, anyway.” I’d considered it, but there was no point in getting my hopes up, the Ravenclaw team was fully stocked with third upto fifth years--none of them would graduate until my fourth year anyway. 

“What position would you prefer?” Alice asked, her eyes glued to the pitch, her fingernails pressed to her chin out of nerves.

I shrugged, preferring to leave the question unanswered. After another half hour, Mary and Potter had achieved positions as Chasers, while Sirius claimed one of the Beater slots. He looked way too happy holding his new bat, right up until he accidentally bonked himself up the back of his head.

* * *

  
  
  


_ July 2nd, 1973 _

I’d started the procedure over again at least four times now. The first time the vial that held the potion had been destroyed after it had been dropped. The other times  I’d swallowed the mandrake leaf on accident, I’d forgotten the daily chant ( _ just once but it was enough _ ) and I was beginning to understand why it was such a difficult thing to accomplish in the first place.  _ It’s a touchy little spell.  _

I’d been home for the summer for six days before I’d started the process again. I had gathered the ingredients _ ,  _ had already selected the perfect place to store anything that needed to go on undisturbed, and had a mandrake leaf or three set aside just in case. But first, the  damned  meditations.

I didn’t particularly enjoy them, mainly because it would bring visions to my mind’s eye that I never expected, and never wanted to see again. Of course that didn’t matter to my inner eye. The moment I’d slowed my heartbeat to the correct pace, the first one hit like a falling brick wall. 

_ I was standing in Hogwarts, in the east wing while streams of light flew through the air around me. As the walls were hit, clouds of dust and rubble kicked up, but I couldn’t see who was firing the lights. I couldn’t hear what was being yelled, actually the only thing I could hear was a deafening CRACK from above. I saw one stone fall, followed by another, and another… _

_ I was flying through the air, holding onto something I couldn’t see. There were others all around me robed in black, flying on invisible mounts as a dark forest raced beneath us. _

_ I was running through the Forbidden Forest, at the head of three others. I could hear their feet pounding into the earthy floor like war drums. I began to slip as the dirt gave way under my paws, doomed to fall, before something grey and skinny shot out of nowhere and grabbed me by the neck, hauling me back onto firm ground. I looked up at the grey wolf, the shaggy black dog, and the enormous black wolf, each pelt glistening under the light of the full moon.  _

_ I was standing on a city street, of a place I didn’t recognize because I’d never seen so much sunlight for longer than five minutes in London. I was kicking tiny feet at a flock of pigeons, laughing as they fluttered around to avoid me.  _

_ I was running. I was being chased by someone like me. Someone with fair hair, and large brown eyes. Someone… _

_ I saw a flick of a tail. It was long and fuzzy, and instinctively, I knew it belonged to me. _

_ I was dueling with a boy in the woods. No words fell from my lips, but my wand shot spells faster than I thought imaginable, until he was silenced and defeated.  _

_ I was sitting on a desk in a full classroom, waiting for the lesson to begin. I was talking to someone who looked like James Potter, (with the wrong shape of glasses and eye color,) and a girl with bushy brown hair. A voice came from my mouth, but it wasn’t mine: “I heard McGonagall was going to ease us in on practical self-transfiguration soon. . .I accidentally gave myself a pair of rabbit ears in my second year, so hopefully we won’t suffer a repeat.” _

_ “I don’t know, I could do with a proper laugh,” replied the unknown girl.  _

_ “Yeah well, how about we give the ears to Ron this time?” the voice that wasn’t mine said conspiratorially. Moments later, an impossibly tall boy rested his head on the shoulder that also wasn’t mine and breathed deeply. “Morning sleepyhead.” _

_ “You’ve been busy,” he muttered. “Why is that?” _

_ “Don’t try to keep track of me. The last person that tried was never seen again.” I was moving away now, towards a group of students in Slytherin. A boy with a pale, pointed face and another with piercing eyes and dark hair confronted me.  _

_ “What did he want with you?” _

_ “He probably sensed that we’d left the castle.” _

_ “How?” _

_ “It doesn’t matter, he has no way to prove it.” _

_ I turned my back on them, to chat with a Slytherin girl I didn’t recognize, but she seemed to recognize me. Moments later, a boy in Hufflepuff was speaking to the giant from earlier. “Quince, we’ve got practice tonight; that’s not going to be a problem with your. . .thing is it?” _

_ I turned to watch the tall boy scoff.  “Come on Zach, find a more awkward way to phrase it, won’t you? The moon’s waning anyway--I’ll be fine.” _

_ “Wait, what?” People were starting to look around at the mention of the moon. _

_ “You sure?” the Hufflepuff pressed. _

_ “Positive. If you can’t take my word for it, check whether Professor Lupin is teaching today--really that should be enough.” _

_ “What about Lupin?” asked the James-Potter impersonator. _

_ “None of your concern, Potter.” _

_ The big guy waved a hand dismissively. “It’s no big deal. Really, if people haven’t figured out that I’m a werewolf by now then they haven’t been paying attention. And I feel like that reflects poorly on the educators of this school.”  _

_ “Is that true?” The question was directed at the person everyone believed I was, who had covered their eyes with one hand. People began repeating the word werewolf  in whispered conversations like it was something bad, forbidden. _

I jerked back into reality, my heart beating irregularly and my head filled with foreign information and visions. 

This was why I hated meditating. I grabbed at my wand and pointed its tip to my heart, muttering the phrase that would start the transformation process all over again, “ _Amato Animo Animato Animagus.”_

* * *

  
  


_ October 11th, 1973 _

The full moon shone out the window as the four of us set to work. Potter and I wrote up an essay for History of Magic and Muggle Studies, while Sirius helped Pettigrew meditate for his transformation. The rest of us had achieved the final stage, merely waiting for a lightning storm to strike the castle. 

But for tonight, we were still simply human, and determined to help Remus finish his homework while he was busy scaring the villagers. Only last weekend we first visited Hogsmeade village and learned about the supposedly haunted building placed at the edge of town. (Well that and we lost Potter in Zonko’s jokeshop, and had to drag Sirius away from Rosmerta, a pretty, vivacious young thing just starting out in a place called  _ The Three Broomsticks _ .)

We were so close...it was only a matter of time before we could transform. 

* * *

  
  


_ May 19th, 1974 _

Mary threw back her head and groaned in defeat, notecards flying across the courtyard. “I give up! I’m rubbish!”

I allowed a wry grin to ghost my lips as I reorganized her cards with a wave of my wand. With exams on the rise, she was becoming more and more unpredictable in her study habits. Gryffindor had won the Quidditch cup, so according to her and the rest of the team they had ‘ _ nothing  _ to look forward to!’ 

“That’s not true, with the grades you’ve managed in the last three years, you could easily drop out and clean fireplaces for a living.” 

She angled her head to glare at me. “What? Like a house elf?”

I puckered my lips and shook my head shrewdly. “No, I was referring to muggle fireplaces.”

She reached out and punched my shoulder. “You’re not funny!” 

I rubbed at my shoulder, almost on instinct over need. She’d started doing that at the start of third year and while she packed a punch, it had never occurred to me to ask her to stop. In Transfiguration this year we’d actually studied Animagi in class, and that’s when we all learned that Professor McGonagall herself could transform into a tabby cat. Her change was smooth and despite all odds it looked natural—like,  _ of course _ my teacher could turn into a cat at will, couldn’t yours? I’d been tempted to ask her how long it had taken for her to complete the skill at last, but I’d refrained. Just as well, I learned later that Sirius had asked her the very same question the day before. Two years, was the answer, and that had taken place  _ after _ her school days. 

I quizzed Mary on the subject until she looked ready to bleed out and die or wring my neck—so I called for a break and, seeking for a different subject, I asked where Alice had got to—I hadn’t seen her in weeks. Mary adopted a lofty manner that I rarely saw from her. “Ooh, well, Alice dear is being tutored in Defense Against the Dark Arts by none other than Frank Longbottom.” She fluttered her eyelashes at me, and I (ignoring the odd sensation in my stomach) frowned back at her. 

“So?”

She scoffed and shuffled her notecards. “Isn’t it obvious?”

I glanced around, hoping for a sign or something, because I had no idea what she was getting at. “What’s obvious?”

“Well, they’ve been studying together for quite a while now,” she said evasively, still managing to stuff every syllable with a know-it-all tone. 

“And? Longbottom’s a year above us, he probably knows loads more about Defense than any of us,” I said impatiently. 

“Defense, yes...among other things,” she added softly. 

“What are you talking about?”

Emitting a large sigh, Mary met my eyes and said, “For all your observational skills Lux, you’re still such a  _ boy _ .”

I think she was trying to insult me, but it was hard to feel that way when I was still so lost. 

* * *

  
  


_ December 18th, 1974 _

Father was absent by the time I arrived home, with nothing more than a note indicating that I was to wait for the rest of the family to arrive—the whole family was spending the holiday at the estate, and I had no excuse to miss it. 

With snow piled up high against the outer windows, and nobody to throw it at, I decided to dig up Father’s chess board and harass the ivory pieces for fun. The game had been a gift from one of Father’s schoolmates, and each piece had a habit of insulting just about anything in sight, and it was one of my favorite things in the world. I played against Aunt Burgie once and almost bit my tongue off for the effort of not laughing aloud. I could still remember thinking  _ Must. Not. Laugh. Or. Else. I. Will. Die.  _ Nobody laughed at Aunt Walburga and kept their head: just look at her hall of stuffed house elves.

The last place I’d seen the board had been in Father’s study—and it wasn’t often I ventured inside there unless Father was home. 

However, I was halfway to fifteen; in most species I was practically an adult. Pushing  o n the dark wood, I stuck my head inside, decided it was safe, and allowed for the rest of my body to follow. 

Growing up was a strange phenomenon, as my body grew faster than my heart, and in many ways I was still a child, watching in wonder as those around me sprouted longer arms, legs, faces, and hair. Girls started giggling in packs, looking at boys in ways that made our insides stir. Alice and Mary pretended nothing had changed but I would catch myself staring at the oddest things without knowing why. 

Without anyone to talk to on the subject, I read about it. In fact, I spotted the very same books I’d referenced in Father’s study. I gave them a wide berth as I looked for the chess board. 

When it became apparent that it wasn’t simply lying around the room in plain sight, I began to rifle through his desk drawers. 

Not surprisingly, my father had a lot of paperwork in his desk. I ignored most of the documents until I spotted one with my name on it. I don’t know what made me hesitate, not when it could have been a detailed inheritance or something but hesitate I did, frowning at the listed name: Pollux Alphard Black. It was my name...but it wasn’t. A reasonable voice in my head told me it was in reference to my grandfather, for whom I was named. But why would Father be in possession of his death certificate? 

Last I saw my grandfather, he was very much alive though granted it had been five months since the last sighting. I’m pretty sure Regulus would mention something if our family patriarch passed away while we were at school. (Between myself and Sirius, he was the most informed.)

I lifted the parchment up and discovered a similar document beneath it, though this time, the name was Sylvia Lillian Black. I’d never heard the name before, but I knew instinctively that she was important. Important enough that she be kept hidden in Father’s desk drawer, beside the other record and… I reached back and picked up the photograph that lay at the bottom of the drawer. It was very old, black and white, and it showed three people. My father, with a woman and a small boy. I would have assumed the woman was my mother, whom I had never known, and that the boy was me, except for two factors: my father had taken about ten pictures of me in my life and I knew where in the estate each of them rested. As for the other argument… the boy in the picture had dark eyes, but when I looked in the mirror, bright silver eyes had always reflected back. 

I pocketed the pictures and the documents, leaving everything else in my father’s study, even the chess board. I had to know, I had to understand who Sylvia Lillian and this Pollux Alphard were...and why they were so important to Father...and what that meant about me.

* * *

  
  


_ April 18th, 1975 _

It was no secret that we all secretly loathed Astronomy. I was excellent at naming the stars, my family tree was named after half of the night sky, after all.  _ Which would be all well and good unless they weren’t your family. Shut up.  _ In the following months since December, I’d always planned on confronting Father over the discoveries I’d made back then, but never got around to it. And if he noticed the missing certificates and picture, he didn’t mention them to me. I guess we were both hiding things, and so instead of dealing with it, I thrust all my energy and efforts into school, which was very easily accomplished.

Fourth year had run over us like a stampede of centaurs, as if the teachers were determined to pretend we were taking our OWLs this year, and Astronomy was no different. After spending a full two hours squinting at the heavens through our telescopes, I think we were all in agreement that the best thing to do next was to sleep for eternity.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t in the cards.

Dork Meadowes was at the head of the class as we trekked down the spiral staircase, yawning, bumping into each other and imagining what it would be like to sleep in tomorrow, (those of us that didn’t have to wake up for the Quidditch match, that is,) when we all heard a dull thud that sounded remarkably like someone had collapsed onto the stone floor. I was at the back, still quite a few steps away from making it to the base of the Astronomy tower so I didn’t understand why Dork started screaming. At first.

Everyone rushed down to have a look, only to make a few more girls scream, several people gasped and Pettigrew nearly wet himself. Shoving past Quirinus, I finally made it to the front where I saw the body. She was dressed in Slytherin robes, though that was barely distinguishable to the casual observer: they were absolutely destroyed. The crest remained intact, soaked in blood as it was. In her left hand she held a wand, and from her right sleeve, where I imagined her right hand was hidden, there was a small silver thing that anyone else had yet to notice. They were distracted, I imagined, by the dead girl that had been left at the base of the tower. While no one else was looking, I bent down and picked up the object, pocketing it swiftly. Then I straightened, waiting for someone to do the smart thing and call a teacher.

Evans took charge, herding people away from the girl. “Okay, back up everyone, don’t crowd!” 

“It’s breathing!” Roy shrieked. 

“Well, kind of,” said Sirius sarcastically. “Give her a few minutes and she’ll probably stop.” 

“Imbeciles.” I stepped forward, telling myself I shouldn’t have expected anything more. Withdrawing my wand, and enchanting Damocles’s cloak into a makeshift stretcher (“Oy!”) I waved my wand over the girl and lifted her onto it. “Stuff it, Damocles. You lot,” I nodded at Alice and her clan that happened to be in the way, “out of the way; this witch needs Madam Pomfrey, not a bunch of gangly teenagers.”

They parted to make a kind of path, through which I marched, the stretcher hovering along at my side. Just as I rounded a corner, I ducked into a hidden shortcut to get to the hospital wing quicker. I allowed my eyes to stray to the girl in the Slytherin robes, convinced I’d never seen her before.

“ Damn .” I muttered, taking in her countless injuries. “What happened to you?”


	9. The Girl with the Silver Hourglass

Death was remarkably more painful than what she’d previously imagined. She’d felt her conscious mind drift in and out so often she might as well be on heavenly standby, like an airplane waiting for take off. 

While her views of heaven were a bit askew, it didn’t make sense for death to be the dark end so many made it out to be. Surely there was some kind or reward awaiting her on the other side, good or bad; she’d take it. 

She’d hoped she could relax now that she’d run her race, but she couldn’t ignore the pain that continued to shoot through her body. It felt as if her bones were regrowing, building themselves up to full strength. Also, her head was surrounded by a halo of agonizing pains, as if the afterlife was determined to repair every last injury that caused her death. The last thing she remembered before the end was a cave, a confused little girl, and an annoying amount of blood. 

_ Well, nobody ever said Death was pretty.  _

Still, there was something missing. Wasn’t she supposed to see a white light, or feel some sensation akin to that of floating? Wasn’t Death’s embrace cold? Yet she felt warm, surrounded by soft, but firm textures, and then her heart began to beat in earnest. 

It had been beating all along, but perhaps rather lazily, before the sound came back to her ears. 

“Did the nurse say what was wrong with her?” Someone was speaking nearby. So, the afterlife had a hospital—that was new. 

“Head trauma, like something heavy struck her right before she lost consciousness; she also might have been in a serious fight of some kind--there were signs of torture.”  _ Huh. Welp, that sounds painful. _

“Torture?” a third voice repeated. “What kind?”  _ What does it matter?  _

“There was evidence of the Cruciatus Curse, a couple of burns, traces of hexes across the map and as you all saw last night, about a bucket of blood.”  _ Evidently it matters a great deal.  _

“Wicked. What’s a dame like her doing in Slytherin? Clearly she’s Gryffindor material.”  _ Who is he talking about? ...oh right. It’s me. _

“Because she went and got herself beat up?” A new, gentle voice joined the conversation. “I like to think there’s more to our House then that.”  _ I didn’t get killed on purpose. People in the afterlife are just as judgemental as they are in the world of the living. _

There was a groan like hinges as a door opened, triggering a different, eager voice. “Evans! Come to check on me? You really do care, don’t you?” He received no reply, and there was a slight pause, until a new voice spoke, this time in a low murmur to avoid detection.  _ Must be standing nearer to me. _

“I just talked to Sev. He hasn’t ever seen her in Slytherin House before, and no one recognizes her description. She may yet be a student, but she must’ve been having a laugh or something because she’s not a Slytherin, and I know she’s not a Gryffindor… Are you sure she’s not in Ravenclaw?”

“Positive,” replied the voice who’d listed her injuries from earlier. “Someone could ask Alice about her, but it’s not looking like she belongs in the castle, is it?”  
“Well she came from somewhere!” _Somebody’s indignant._ “And it’s like you’re always saying, Lux, she couldn’t just apparate into the castle.”

Though she didn’t recognize a single voice, their pattern of speech was familiar. She had to accept what she’d been so desperate to deny: she wasn’t dead. She was in the hospital wing at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry, and by the way her body was feeling--she was healing fast. 

Reaching out with her senses, she tried to gently, unobtrusively, figure out  _ when  _ she was. If no one recognized her, it was a safe bet she wasn’t in the 90s anymore. No matter, all she needed to do was get away from prying eyes and use the Blood-turner. It had always snapped her back to her present, and it was her best bet now. 

_ It’s April...19...7...5...oh brother. I’m not even born for another two months...and four years. What am I doing back so far?  _

“Hey-” There was a scuffle, sounding like someone got up from a chair and crossed a short space. “This hers?” She felt something tugging at her left hand, and knew instinctively that someone had picked up her wand, and it wanted very much to return to her instead.  
“Put it back, Black!” _Black?? Not--oh no._

“This is the longest wand I’ve ever seen!” he announced to the wing at large. “Look at all these patterns--like mine except more random--and look at the base: what animal is that supposed to be?”

“ _ Expelliarmus!”  _ someone else disarmed him, or tried. She knew what was going to happen before it did, could feel the sizzling sensation dance along her fingertips. Her wand was calling to her, and the time to act was now.

There was a zapping noise as her wand deflected the spell on its own, and she raised her left hand to catch it as it returned to her. 

_ Here goes nothing. _

Lian sat up in the stunned silence that followed her wand’s actions, throwing the blankets off of her and jumping to her feet, scanning the situation for three heartbeats. 

_ One. _ There were seven students gaping at her. All of them were Gryffindors with the exception of the boy standing closest to her, who was in Ravenclaw. 

_ Two. _ A boy ( _ it’s not Harry, it can’t be!) _ was lying across one of the other beds opposite hers, a smaller boy with watery eyes was holding a racing broom, though his grip was loose. 

_ Three. _ If they were amazed by a wand with a thunderbird feather core, they had no way to stop her next move. This was Hogwarts, after all, and if memory served correctly, the windows were nothing if not reliable.

Moving her wand arm in a slicing motion, she thought,  _ Fumos! _ with all the mental energy she could muster, and a great plume of smoke shot out to blind anyone in the hospital wing. Moving on bare feet, she trusted that nobody had moved in their shock at her sudden awakening and quick actions, dodging past the Ravenclaw, the two girls, the boys who were probably teen-aged Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, past the Harry-Potter-lookalike and at last to the piggy boy holding the broomstick. Snatching it with her right hand, ignoring his squeal of protest, she moved to the nearest window and undid the latch, allowing it to open wide.

Behind her, the smoke was dispelled by one of the girls, revealing Lian as she was, perched on the window sill, one foot outside. 

“Oy!” the Harry-lookalike cried indignantly, confirming her suspicion that the racing broom was in fact his. Allowing herself to grin over her shoulder, (what was the harm? some of them would never see her again) she turned to face the open air and jumped. 

Someone, (probably young Sirius Black,) hooted behind her: “Told you. Gryffindor material!” For several moments, she allowed herself to fall freely, before mounting the broom and shooting off into the distance, eager to leave 1975 as soon as possible. 

But when had her life ever been that easy?

She reached the far side of the Black Lake, landed on the edge of the trees and only then did she take stock of her situation. 

Her head pounding a bit from the adrenaline rush, she knelt beside the water and took a peek at her reflection.  _ Oh gosh, I look like hell.  _ Her hair was a rats nest, her face looked gaunt—complete with hollow cheeks. How long had she been unconscious?  _ I mean technically I fell out of time so there’s no way to be completely certain...speaking of… _

She patted down her uniform, trying to remember which pocket she’d put it in. She’d whipped it out in a stroke of brilliance during the battle under the Astronomy tower. Snape had stormed in and caused the whole thing to collapse while she and some Death Eater remained underneath it. She couldn’t have moved fast enough—her only chance had been the Blood-Turner. 

And a single drop of her blood had sent her straight to herself, six years prior, when she was a simple first year at Ilvermorny. And then she was supposed to die. The last six years had depended greatly on the knowledge that Lian would go back in time to warn her younger self, and then die. That’s why she held people at arms length, people who wanted something more—something Lian wouldn’t live long enough to give them. 

After all the heartbreak she’d faced and endured, she refused to be the reason for another. 

_ Though the very fact that I’m here alive and well makes everything I’ve done slightly pointless and—uh oh.  _ She felt a rise in panic which she quickly squelched.  _ Don’t freak out. Freaking out won’t solve anything. But where is it?!?  _ She’d searched every pocket, every inch of her sock, any place she’d hidden the Turner before and came up empty.  _ Did I drop it?? _

Leaning away from the lake, back on her heels, she ran both hands, flesh and steel, through her grimy hair.  _ Think, Kowalski. Where could it go? _

She cast her mind back to the people who had surrounded her in the hospital wing.  _ Six Gryffindors and a Ravenclaw...walk into a bar—focus! Uhm…  _ She could sense that all of them had been present when her body had been found, though there wasn’t any motive for those specific people to visit her...but one of them had been injured in Quidditch, the Harry-lookalike, obviously. The Gryffindors were there to check on him, then. That left the boy from Ravenclaw… 

She hadn’t dwelt much on any of their memories, she’d only wanted the year and once she’d acquired that she had no reason to linger.  _ I bet if I’d reached out to him, I could have sensed his guilt...that is, if he has any. The point is, this means I have to go back and track him down. But first-- _ sighing, Lian rolled up her sleeve to inspect her right arm, the steel glinting dully in the afternoon sunlight. If Madam Pomfrey had panicked when she’d clapped eyes on her prosthetic, at least she’d possessed the decency to leave it alone. However, as Lian noticed the bloodstains still clinging to the fingers and palm, she suspected that nobody had seen it. Grabbing a fistful of her robes and dipping it into the lake, she attempted to scrub the offending marks away. 

If she wanted to get the Blood-Turner back without upsetting the future, she couldn’t go breaking down doors and bursting through windows. This would have to be handled delicately, with just a touch of finesse. 

Ergo--she would have to clean herself up, and likely change her hair--which was alright, her roots were coming in anyway. Maybe bop down to the kitchens and swipe a good meal. The house elves never seemed to mind before...

AND THEN she would retrieve the Blood-Turner.

 

* * *

 

Lian opted to ditch her Slytherin robes—after all it had been determined that she wasn’t in Slytherin. She didn’t know how long they’d kept her in the hospital wing, no way of knowing how much they’d looked at her--so the only advantage she had was to change as much of herself as she could. She cleaned up, entered the village and snatched a robe that fit her from the pub’s lost and found; and then for good measure she performed a hair growth spell on herself, which was a very odd thing in that her hair grew about three feet long, returning to its natural, sandy coloring, before she remembered the counterspell. And then she had to trim the darker ends, which felt very much like she was cutting away her old mistakes and beginning anew. 

Now if she could only return to her own time. 

Wand in her sock, stolen broom in hand, she waited until nightfall before daring to travel the skies back towards the castle. Never having traversed to the Ravenclaw tower, it took her a few guesses before she tracked it down, though she didn’t dare knock on the common room windows.  _ Nothing says panic like a stranger knocking on the tower window. _

Landing in the owlery, she instructed one of the only remaining school owls to return the broomstick to Gryffindor tower with an anonymous ‘thank you’ note. The layout of the castle hadn’t changed, though its inhabitants had. As long as she remained out of sight, she shouldn’t have any obstacles.

She dodged prefects on their rounds, able to sense their minds before they made themselves known and hide in closets or behind suits of armor and move on after they’d left. There was a particularly sticky moment where she’d had to deal with Peeves, who wanted to tie her hair to a chandelier and set it on fire--he’d feel that one in the morning. Otherwise, everything was going fairly well until she entered the western-most side of the castle, and proceeded to get lost. 

_ Why didn’t I make more friends in Ravenclaw? _ she asked herself after meeting yet another dead end.  _ I knew I should’ve reached out to Anthony Goldstein--we’re probably 2nd or 7th cousins anyway. Think! Okay, the tower was facing the Quidditch pitch, so… _ Using the windows for reference, she started to get back on track, feeling triumphant by simply finding the spiral staircase. Unfortunately when she reached the door that would lead to the common room, she was forced to hang back, realizing that there were a few people waiting outside of it already.

“Footsteps?” one of the boys was saying. “I think it’s footsteps.”

There was another voice that sounded rather irate as it recited, “ _ The more you take, the less you are left with. What am I? _ ”

“Apparently not footsteps,” said another, familiar voice. “Try again, Peter.”

“I don’t know!” the acclaimed Peter wailed. “Why can’t Sirius just owl him?”

Lian slapped her palm to her forehead.  _ These knuckleheads again. _ Why were four Gryffindor boys trying to gain entrance to Ravenclaw Tower? And why was there a riddle? Every other house had a password or a code of some kind--leave it to the ‘smart’ house to do something outside the box.

Still, she’d heard that riddle before, or read something like it in her Great Uncle’s book...it was a chapter on... _ Oh! _ But she couldn’t call out the answer--that would defeat everything she’d done so far to avoid being cornered. Sighing impatiently, she moved slowly back down the steps to avoid being detected when something tapped her shoulder, making her freeze. She couldn’t see anything around her, until a boy- (the same one whose broom she’d borrowed)-materialized out of nowhere, just a floating head in the stairway. 

“Are you trying to get into your common room?” he asked politely, telling Lian that her ploy had worked and he didn’t recognize her from earlier. The other three looked around the curve to gaze at her quizzically.

“Are you good with these stupid riddles?” one of them asked.

She had a few options. She could transform and scare the fluids out of the four of them, though that was probably not a good idea in this close environment. She could talk her way out of it, the usual methods still at her disposal, or she could play innocent and pretend she was a Ravenclaw trying to get back into her tower. Or both.

_ Both is good. _ “I’ve got a better question; what are you four doing out of your dormitory? I know of a few prefects only a few shouts away who would  _ love _ to know the answer to that question.”

They each stared at her, and she was feeling pretty good about her bluff until the boy with watery eyes spoke, “You talk funny.”

_ Uh oh. How do you explain an American in a British school?? When I transferred EVERYONE knew about it, seeing as I was paraded in front of the school with the rest of the first years. There is NO--wait a second, I’m older than these guys. Which means-- _ ”Excuse me? What’s the matter, never heard an American accent before? I’ve only been going to school here since my first year--I’m finally about to graduate and you have the gall to-”

“ _ I say! _ ” the other voice, the one that recited the riddle earlier, interrupted her tirade. “ _ Are you going to guess or just argue with one another all night long? _ ” 

Lian pushed past the other three to stand in front of the handleless door and the bronze eagle head, which said, “ _ The more you take, the less you are left with. What am I?” _

Under the watchful stare of the fourth years, Lian spoke with confidence, praying she was remembering it right: “Leprechaun gold.” 

The eagle head sighed in relief, before opening the door to reveal a relatively empty common room, though anyone that was inside was reading or working or keeping very much to themselves.  _ Figures.  _ With her audience, Lian had no choice but to walk inside, only to be followed by the four stooges. She normally would have told them to go away but she didn’t dare speak in front of other listeners now--the boy with the watery eyes (she was pretty sure his name was Peter) had been right, in this decade of Hogwarts, her American accent was a dead giveaway. One of them, the boy who was probably young Sirius, broke away and up into one of the dormitory’s, while the other three rounded on her, their eyes probing her curiously.

“You never answered my question,” said James.

Lian folded her arms and replied in the most high and mighty voice she could muster, her accent sounding distinctly ambiguous: “And you never answered  _ mine. _ ”

“We’re here for our friend, Lux,”  _ That’s the one I’m looking for...and he’ll probably make me straight away. And there’s one too many witnesses. _

She ducked into the girls dormitory, only to linger on the stairs as she listened to the boys gather themselves and depart from the common room.  _ Great, now what? I have to get the Blood-Turner back, or else I’m stuck here! _

“Um, excuse me, could you move?” a girl with attitude and an afro was staring up at her. Lian rolled her eyes, stepping back out into the common room to allow the girl to pass, except once she had, she looked up at Lian with an accusing stare. “Do I know you?”

“Does it matter?” Lian shot back, before making a quick exit and skipping down the stairs in an effort to catch up to the delinquent who had walked away with her Blood-Turner. 

She heard them talking not far from the bottom of the tower, and walked with purpose through the shadowed corridor until she spotted five pairs of feet marching along, with apparently no bodies to hold upright.

“Why are we going to the one-eyed witch?” asked young Remus Lupin, sounded perplexed. “Honeydukes will be closed by now.”

“Because you’ve got to see something, that’s why!” answered James. 

Having lost her patience about ten minutes ago, Lian withdrew her wand and pointed at the shoes, thinking,  _ Accio Blood-Turner! _

There was a grunt of surprise beneath the invisible shield or blanket or whatever they were using to hide, and a second later the small, silver object came whizzing into her hand. “Hold on, something just happened,” the last pair of shoes came to a halt, while the rest continued to shuffle forward, and a moment later a boy straightened up, in plain sight while the rest of the feet disappeared.

“Hurry up, Lux!” young Sirius hissed.

“I’ll catch up!” Lux whispered, staring around at the ground for the Blood-Turner. For her part, Lian held up the little hourglass, ready to use it when he spotted her. “Hey!”

He’d started to say something else, but Lian threw caution to the wind and broke into a run, sprinting past him, tripping the invisible boys and dodged into a shortcut that would take her to the eighth floor. Once up there, she ran into a classroom that was connected to three others without exiting the corridor, jumped back out into the open by the enchanted staircase and hopped onto the flight below, which redirected her to the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy and a dead end.  _ Oh, and also the Room of Requirement. I’ve got a few requirements! _

Quick as she was able, she called upon the Room of Hidden Things and shut the door behind her, or at least she tried. Inches from being locked and safe, a foot shoved its way in, soon followed by a teenage boy with long dark hair and Ravenclaw robes. The door fell shut behind him, but at that point, Lian didn’t even care. She pointed her wand at her pursuer, her robber, her... _ No… _

He stared back at her, his eyebrows knitted together as he recognized the wand aimed at his nose, realizing she was the girl from the hospital wing. Determined to get answers that had long evaded her, Lian shoved through his mental defenses. They fell over with relative ease, and she was greeted with rich memories, full memories, memories that had nothing to do with her, or with Ollie, or  _ anything _ . She saw memories of a young boy getting bullied by family members, and hardening himself against their words so he wouldn’t feel so broken all the time. She saw memories of a boy who wanted nothing more than for his father to look out for him in all the ways dreamed, but had no idea how to bridge the gap. She saw memories of a boy who had small amounts of social anxiety, enough to prevent him from seeking people out or developing fast friendships. She saw a boy with trust issues that outnumbered Dumbledore’s age. She saw a boy who saw everything truly, but who was rarely seen. A boy who bottled up his emotions, a boy who pushed away people he didn’t like, and held on too tightly to people he did…

She withdrew from his mind, feeling confused and misplaced.  _ It’s not him... _ but then she detected an abnormality in his mind. Something that shouldn’t be there...so of course she spent the next several heartbeats probing it.

“Stop it!” he cried out, clutching at his head. “I don’t know what you’re doing, but stop it!”  _ Never had your mind examined--and yet this thing here says otherwise, now doesn’t it? _ “ _ Stupefy! _ ”

As she wasn’t using her wand, but was holding it in an offensive position, her wand was able to defend itself, deflecting the stunning spell into the wall torch. “Pollux R. Black, is it?” Lian said at long last, and she ignored the shock and the anger in his eyes as she went on. “What does the R stand for?”

“None of your business!” he barked, shaking his wand at her. “What are you doing with a time-turner?”

“None of your business,” she imitated, before lowering her wand. “We could do this all night, but forgive me if I believe I possess the advantage.”

“What did you just do--to my head? It  _ hurts! _ ” he demanded.

“You reminded me of somebody dangerous, and I had to be sure,” she replied simply. “Who named you Pollux, by the way, because I’d like to punch them in the face.” 

“I was named for my grandfather, and what  the hell does it matter?!” He tried stunning her again and this time she actively shielded it. “Sure of  _ what?! _ Who are you?!”

“I’m-!” Lian stopped herself, a sudden realization washing over her like a tidal wave.  _ All this time I thought he was haunting me...but if he’s never seen me before then...I was the one...if I tell him now, it’ll never end.  _ “-not important,” she finished lamely. “Just go away!” Her stomach hurt, maybe she ate something she didn’t quite agree with, but that wasn’t as important as getting away from this boy ASAP. 

“Not until I get some answers out of you!” he snapped. “What happened to you before—why were you so badly wounded, and—” he broke off, staring at her belly. “Are you okay??” 

She looked down at her shirt, and saw something dark red spreading across her right side, just about her waist. Raising up the hem, she watched as her old wound began to reopen and fester right then and there. “What-” she muttered, pointing her wand at it in an attempt to heal herself, but every spell failed. She applied pressure to stem the bleeding looking around the room and spotting a first-aid kit coming into being a few feet away. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Pollux R Black demanded. “Are you a hemophiliac?”

_ Just had that on the tip of your tongue, did you? _ Lian rolled her eyes. “No! It’s an old injury from when I was a kid.” She pressed gauze to the gash and grabbed for rubbing alcohol or neosporin, whatever came up first.  _ This is a Pukwudgie’s area of expertise, I swear! Where’s Jake when you need him?! _

“And it’s acting up just now because..?”

“I don’t know!” Lian’s mind was racing, trying to ignore the fact that she almost died from this particular, that day on Long Island. Why on earth had the scar picked that moment to reopen? It wasn’t natural, something was wrong--but what? 

“Maybe you should have stayed in the hospital wing instead of bursting out of windows and whatnot!”  _ Well now that’s a low blow.  _ “Come with me, I’ll take you back-”

“I know where the hospital wing is and I’m not going anywhere! I’m taking enough of a risk just talking to you, though I’ll probably modify your memory just in case,” Lian spoke without thinking. She was pretty good at that.

Pollux Black looked at her, horror struck. “ _ I beg your _ __ _ pardon!?” _

“Don’t take it personally, and anyways I figure you’ve already had it done before, another time can’t hurt.” Lian shrugged, rifling through the first aid kit for something else to help her situation. She really should just obliviate him and go, but she was afraid of time-traveling in her condition. She’d be just as nervous if someone asked her to apparate with an open wound--that was like inviting an accident to come her way. 

“I--what?” came the staggered inquiry. Lian looked over at him, watching him struggle in silence for a moment or so.

“Yeah...you’ve got a few years missing from your memories,” she stated. 

He blinked slowly, giving his head a little shake. “What...how do you...what…” he ground his teeth in frustration. “WHO ARE YOU!?”

“You know,” Lian said with a grimace, her tone soft. “Shouting at a bleeding woman might be your worst mistake, why don’t you try a different approach and who knows, I might answer.” The important thing was to prevent herself from losing too much blood--that would be the real killer right about now. 

Mr. Grumpy-Pants seethed in silence for a few seconds before taking her advice and trying a different approach. “If you answer my questions, maybe I can help you.”

“Or maybe you can be my downfall,” she sighed. 

“Look, you said this is an old injury--how old is it?” he pressed, taking a knee beside her on the floor. 

Reluctantly, Lian said, “Twelve years.”

He blanched. “Tw-twelve years? Surely it should have healed by n-”

“I know! And it was until a minute a--AGH!” she clutched at her gut, pain slicing through her body like a sword. “S-something’s w-wrong...I don’t…” And then she recalled that day in more specific detail. She had been rescued by someone...by someone wearing plain…black...robes… A chill rose up along her arm, sides and neck as she glanced over at the boy kneeling beside her. Long dark hair, determined expression, Hogwarts uniform...this wasn’t coincidence. If she didn’t send him...she really would die...but not now, all through time, tracing back until she was five again, suffering an attack from a hidebehind on Long Island. 

If only she had... _ I mean, the Blood-turner only takes you through time to people with your blood, hence the very subtle name… _ The longer she hesitated though, the weaker she felt.  _ It’s already happened before...I don’t know how but… _ She reached into her pocket and withdrew the silver hourglass, holding it up to Pollux R Black. 

“Save me...if you save me, I’ll tell you anything you want to know,” she vowed. “Just prick your finger...it’ll take care of the rest. I warn you...there was a lot of blood back then…”

He accepted the hourglass, looking completely bewildered. “I don’t understand what you expect me to-”

“Use  _ Incendio _ .” Lian reached over and guided his thumb to the sharp point atop the hourglass. In a wink of an eye, he vanished, leaving her to bleed on the floor of the Come-and-Go Room.


	10. Julianne

I didn’t know what I expected, but it certainly hadn’t been that. Before the girl had even opened her eyes she’d been a hurricane, stirring up trouble and uncertainty in my relatively peaceful life. One moment she was unknown in a hospital bed, and the next she was using nonverbal magic, stealing broomsticks and freediving out of five story windows! And then she’d come back, for her little hourglass, fled through the castle like a demon and sought refuge in a room I’d never seen before. 

I knew the hourglass to be a time-turner, I’d seen pictures of them before and heard Uncle Cygnus talk about how dangerous they could be. All at once the fact that nobody recognized her was answered simply by the idea that she did not belong to this time. But there was still the matter of how she’d gotten into the castle. Time-travel or not, wasn’t Hogwarts protected? 

Had she travelled on accident? Why was she near death when she arrived? Was she being chased? I had ten million questions for her, but when I saw her standing there, wand pointed at my face, I was rendered speechless. She was as infuriating as she was bewitching, and then I was faced with all kinds of memories I hadn’t touched in years. That hadn’t been so harmful—what really hurt was a strange throbbing sensation that had followed the memories. My head had felt like it was going to implode...and it still did, but shockingly it wasn’t my first concern. 

After she pricked my thumb on her strange hourglass, I felt a tug round my navel and one moment later I was kneeling outside, in a fog thicker than James Potter’s ego, pine needles and twigs littering the earthy floor. 

Before I could ask what or where—I heard a scream. Through the mist I could barely make out a shadow of a large, troll-like thing, looming over a smaller figure. Without stopping to consider the consequences, I pointed my wand at the taller silhouette and cried, “ _ Incendio! _ ” 

The thing, which I was later informed was a creature called a Hidebehind, shrieked as its entire body ignited, recoiling from its prey and racing off into the mist. The smaller figure wobbled before collapsing to the ground. I approached cautiously at first, but then tripped and barely caught myself before crushing the little girl. She looked to be about five years old, with wide brown eyes and sand-colored hair.  _ Wait a second _ .

She held her tiny hand over her right side, which in no way covered the gash that was the mirror image of the one inflicting the girls future self. “Merlin! You weren’t kidding,” I said without thinking, holding the girl up with my other arm while I tried to remember even the simplest of spells, her eyelids fluttering closed as I did so. “Come on, stay awake!” 

“Don’t...leave…” she murmured, completely trusting me despite my being a total stranger. 

“Don’t worry,” I assured her, remembering a numbing spell my father liked to use whenever he was feeling a little pranky. “I’m not going anywhere.”  _ Couldn’t if I wanted to. _ The next best thing would be to stop the bleeding somehow...she was so tiny and this was so beyond fourth year magic...and yet...if I tried to cauterize it… 

“Where’s Mommy?” The girl said, clearly delirious. 

“She’s on her way,” I said vaguely. “Don’t think about her now. What’s your name?”

“Julianne,” she whispered. 

“Last name?” I urged, eager to get somewhere, but the little girl shook her head. 

“Can’t pronounce it. Me or Ollie…”

“Of course not. Uhm,”  _ Keep her talking!  _ “What’s your favorite animal?” I blurted, inwardly slapping myself.  _ Idiot, she was just attacked by an animal. _

“Occamy.”

_ “ _ Okay...where’s home?”

“Manhattan.”

_ Oh sure, the kid can say Manhattan but not her own last name.  _ “You want to return there?”

“Mhmm.”

“Then stay awake—” certain the wound was numb now, I used a heating spell, which sizzled on the tip of my wand until it glowed orange and only then did I touch it to the injury. “—and you’ll be back before you know it.”

Before  _ I  _ knew it, the silver hourglass in my pocket began to whirl and I traded the fog for Hogwarts, and the child for the young woman, who was standing up, examining her scarred stomach, which had thankfully healed. 

“It  _ was _ you,” she whispered, almost reverently, fixing her shirt and looking up at me. For a strange moment I found pleasure in the fact that I was taller than her. I was almost sixteen, but she seemed much older than that.  _ Focus.  _

“Julianne, huh?” I started, not sure how to proceed. I had just saved her entire life—she owed me everything, really. 

She pursed her lips, as if she considered correcting me before she shrugged it off. “If you like. So, what do you want to know?”

I’d forgotten momentarily about her promise of information before she’d practically pushed me back in time, but I knew exactly where to start. Holding up the little hourglass, I asked, “ _ When _ are you from?”

She tsked, muttering something that sounded like  _ Ravenclaw _ , “Right...1997.”

_Whoa. Let that sink in for a second._ _22 years from now??_ “Why are you here?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“When you turned up you looked like a corpse. What happened to you before?”

“I was fighting with dark, dangerous people. I had seconds before I was crushed, and that was the best way out. Well, at the time,” she amended. 

“Crushed?” I repeated uncertainly, imagining a large fist hammering into her. 

“Well, spoiler alert, but the Astronomy tower was collapsing and I was right in the middle of it.” She answered quite frankly, startling me a bit. I sensed no lie in her, everything she said to me was the truth, and she looked steadily into my eyes as though she was craving my honesty as much as I craved hers. So why did I sense that she was withholding something from me? Something big. 

“Why do you have a time-turner?”

“It was given to me,” she stated, but pointedly refused to expound, (slightly damaging my initial impression of her) and while I desperately wanted to squeeze the full story out of her, some instinct made me pause. 

“How does it work?” And that’s when she revealed a tell—a small wrinkle on the bridge of her nose gave me to know that she had hoped I wouldn’t ask that question.  _ Got you _ . “I’ve never heard of a Time-turner that calls for blood.”

Julianne lowered her eyes for the first time, sighed deeply, before making eye contact again with a new determination in her gaze. “It’s called a Blood-Turner. It’s an extremely powerful object that allows a person to travel through time to correct something that has gone wrong in the past or future, specifically in their own bloodline. So, unless you were related directly to Merlin himself, you couldn’t use it to go back and meet Merlin, it would just take you to your great-great-grandfather or something.”

I frowned, afraid to ask my next question but knowing I had little choice. If I left the room with it unasked and unanswered I’d go mad. “So why did it take me to you and you to me?”

She opened her mouth to deny that it had brought her to me, but without a proper argument and ample proof that it had indeed taken me to her, she closed her mouth again. “I’m not sure...I mean, I have theories, but nothing concrete…”

We lapsed into silence, standing awkwardly in the large room, which I took the chance to look at properly. It had a wide, open space, but the walls were lined with bookshelves that were filled with everything from books on defense (I spotted titles like  _ Self-Defensive Spellwork, Jinxes for the Jinxed, The Dark Arts Outsmarted and A Compendium of Common Cures _ ) to tools like Dark Detectors. There was a pile of plush cushions in the corner, and a dummy with a stick in the back of the room. It looked like the ideal place to practice dueling--I couldn’t believe I’d never heard about it before. 

“I needed someplace that was familiar...this just seemed to make sense, what with it being ‘unplottable’, and all,” Julianne said, as if predicting what I was thinking.  _ Hang on- _

“What you said before--what you  _ did _ before--how is that possible? And are you still going to modify my memory? What did you mean when you said it had happened before?” As much as I didn’t want to believe that I’d been Obliviated, there was a nagging doubt, and anyway, if my memory had been messed with...it’s not like I’d remember it, as that was the point.

She swallowed. “Well...I’m a Legilimens. I was born with the ability to read the emotions, experience the memories and at special times see the thoughts of those around me. I’ve reached a point where people normally don’t notice unless I say something that I wouldn’t know otherwise, but in your case I sensed an abnormality, or rather a kind of block on your mind. Someone’s been in there and locked away a good seven years of your life...and not all at once, either.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” I waved my hand over the mess of information she threw at me. “You’re saying you can  _ read minds _ ? Really? And what, you expect me to just believe you without proof?”

Without missing a beat she started listing off facts I had never told anyone at school, let alone the girl who fell into my life twenty-four hours ago. “You tell everyone you speak three languages when you actually speak five. You read ahead in every class you hate so you’ll still be able to appear to be the smartest in your year--this infuriates a girl called Lily Evans to no end and you love it. You’re not afraid of the dark but you still hate sleeping in it because it reminds you of the summer your oldest cousin locked you in the cellar with a dying house-elf and you thought the disease was contagious. You’re in the last few stages of becoming an Animagus, just waiting for a proper electrical storm--and this you’re doing because you’re trying to help Remus, who is secretly a werewolf that almost bit you when you were twelve, but you were saved by three older students whom you’d never met, and thought you’d never see again.” She took a breath, giving me a grin worthy of a cheshire cat. “Need I say more?”

I opened and closed my mouth a few times until my vocal chords began to work again.  _ Talk about having the rug pulled from beneath you AND being thrown under the bus. _ “Yes, actually. What do you mean, ‘thought I’d never see again’? You’re from the future: AM I going to see them again?”

She rolled her eyes, stepped forward and flicked my forehead. “Well I don’t know about Theodore Nott and Draco Malfoy, but you’ll definitely see Kowalski again.”

My heart skipped a beat, corny as that sounds. I’d never known full names until she’d spoken them. Which must mean… “You know them?”

She chortled, moving to grab one of the cushions and sat upon it. “Oh yes, a little too well, if you--well no, I suppose you wouldn’t. SO-” she said, quickly changing the subject before I had time to dwell on her words. “-what kind of animal do you think you’ll be?”

“A horse--hang on, I’m not done asking you questions,” I followed her, pulling up a cushion for myself. 

“A horse? You? Really,” she said skeptically. “Sounds like somebody didn’t meditate properly.”

I ignored the accusation, mainly because I’d only said horse without truly meaning it: it had been the first thing to pop into my head. I still only had the fuzziest of ideas as to what my final form would be. “What did you mean about my memory being modified before?”

She fiddled with her sock. “It’s not my place to say…”

“I think we passed that after you stalked me in the hallway.”

“After you stole my blood-turner.”

“You dropped it.”

“And that makes it okay?”

“The point is,” I said, steering her back on target, “you and I have a vague understanding of our place with each other--so speak freely, I beg of you.”

She hesitated for a long while, but her hands spoke volumes. I was pulled into a trance just watching them fidget while she selected her words. Her right hand was steel, and after everything I’d witnessed that day, it wasn’t alarming or off-putting in the slightest. It moved just as easily as her real one, and was clearly crafted by some master, as--except for the screws and bolts--you’d never know there wasn’t a real hand underneath all that metal. It wrung her left hand, her left hand grabbed its automaton counterpart while both index fingers poked Julianne’s chin as she gathered herself. I would’ve grown quite impatient with her at that point if her right hand hadn’t been so intriguing to watch. 

At last she took a deep breath, exhaling through her lips as slowly as she dared. “Here’s the thing,” I noticed she didn’t address me by name, though at the time I attributed that to the fact that we were quite alone. “So...you know that memory from when you were six years old and learned how to throw a Quaffle with your cousins..?” I nodded, unsure where she was going with this. “Yeah, that’s a false memory...it didn’t really happen.”

“ _ What? _ ” I hissed. “That’s mental!”

She nodded her head in agreement. “I know, I know, but I swear it’s true. You’ve got a lot of those shoved in with your childhood, like a lot...and if I honestly tried...I might be able to uncover the true memories...but there’s like a ninety-nine percent guarantee that they’re worse than the fake ones you’ve got in there at the moment.”

The photograph from my father’s study flashed across my mind’s eye. “Like how my mother died? And probably an older brother?”  _ I mean, that would make sense, right? _ But now that the idea that most of my childhood was a lie had entered my head, whether or not it was the truth, the very idea would eat away inside of me until something was done about it. 

Julianne had said something to the effect of, “Yeah, probably.”

“Is there anyway for you to check without it hurting?” I asked immediately. The more reasonable side of me, the one I’d been ignoring for the better part of three hours, wondered why I was so willing to trust her, when I struggled and fought to trust members of my own family…  _ Well, maybe because she’s so blunt, so willing to trust me. And I mean, I did save her from dying in the past, so there’s that, even if I still don’t fully understand. _

She leaned back, as if appraising me. “Didn’t you hear what I said? The real memories could be worse!”

“But at least they’d be mine! You have no idea--” I faltered slightly, realizing that she at least had  _ some _ idea. 

“...You’ve been surrounded by fake people all your life,” she nodded, “the idea that something about you being false...I understand that.” She cleared her throat. “But it couldn’t happen all at once--that effort might kill us both, and I’ve had more than my fair share of brushes with death, don’t you think? For now anyway...I’d have to chip away at the barrier bit by bit, give your mind time to adjust.”

_ I barely have to explain myself to her, this is insane. _ “You’d really help me?” She nodded again, mutely. “But that would mean you’d have to stay in this time...you’re sure?”  _ I mean, it’s your fault I’m even aware of something not being right in there at all, so you might as well make up for that. _ “Won’t you age like 22 years if you stay here too long before going back?” I’d heard some horror story to that effect from Uncle Cygnus.

She shrugged. “I’ve travelled back further and didn’t age. I know the stories about regular Time-turners about how misusing it makes people shrivel up but I think something about the power of the Blood-turner keeps me from aging at all...I mean if I aged the number of years I’ve skipped across already I’d be older than my grandfather.” She got to her feet, offering me a hand as she loomed over me. “I’ll help you recover what’s been stolen from you...and then you must let me go.”

“Let you?” I scoffed, staring at her offered hand. “After what I’ve seen from you today, I don’t think I could ever stop you.”

“For all we know, recovering your true memories will change you in ways we can’t yet foresee…” she squared her jaw, steeling herself to say the words on the tip of her tongue. “So you have to swear that when you own your mind again...you will let me return to my own time.”

I squinted up into her face, finding her phrasing suspicious. “...What do you know?”

“It’s not  _ what _ I know, it’s what I  _ believe _ ...but in case I’m wrong, I’ll keep my thoughts to myself, if you don’t mind.”

“Well it’s not as if I can steal them from you,” I said, but accepted her hand and rose to my feet. 

“Keep the Blood-turner with you,” she urged suddenly. “Just so I’m not tempted to use it to go back home anyway…”

I nodded. “Can you start right away, then?”

She blinked, a grimace crossing her freckled face. “Don’t you ever sleep?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Pollux, it’s almost five in the morning.”

I felt shock for a moment before saying, “It’s a Sunday.”

“Go to sleep.”  _ Oh, so now you’re ordering me around? _

“And then you’ll start?”

“Sleep!”

“Promise?”

She’d pushed me to the door, opened it and was just about ready to throw me out into the hall, when she paused. “You can’t tell anyone about me. About what we’re doing. Especially not Sirius and the rest of your friends.”

I coughed into my shoulder. “Of course not. Not a soul.”

Julianne nodded a final time, before shoving me out into the corridor. “Get some rest.”

“Wait-” but even as I spoke, Julianne shut the door in my wake, and it melted into the stone until it had completely vanished. I touched the wall, looking for a secret lever or some switch--but the room had no visible signs of re-entry. But I knew she was still there, listening through the door that no longer existed. I pictured her slumped against the wood, releasing a big sigh and wondering what she’d just agreed to do.

But another part of me pointed out that, given her behaviour thus far, a more likely situation would be that she’d slammed the door shut, turned to the rest of the room and released a loud shout of displeasure, having effectively trapped herself in the past. 

For a perfect stranger.

For me.

And as I made my way back to Ravenclaw Tower, I could only ask myself one question: why?

 

* * *

 

“I heard she’s a vampire,” Dork was saying loudly as I arrived to breakfast on Monday morning. The entire Great Hall seemed to be gossiping about the girl who had vanished from the hospital wing without a trace. James had found his broomstick waiting for him in his dormitory, but rather than placate him, it seemed to fuel his desire to shout about the stranger even louder. I’d overheard Roy and Damocles whispering about how she’d fallen from the top of North tower and survived, so she was  _ obviously _ immortal. “That’s why she looked like death when we all found her Friday night: she was taking a nap!”

“Vampires don’t bleed,” said Quirinus, buttering his toast. “She’s probably a banshee.”

“An omen of death?” Damocles replied, shaking his head. “Not likely, besides she didn’t wake up and scream, did she? Did she?” Someone poked my shoulder. “Hey.”

I looked around to find half the table staring at me. “What?”

“You were there when she woke up and escaped—what did she do  _ exactly _ ?” Roy asked, eyes wide. 

Sensing that any answer I gave would be blown out of proportion anyway, I cleared my throat and said, “Oh yeah, she started chanting in Latin and everything that wasn’t nailed to the walls or floor began to float.” 

“Really?” Pandora looked at me in awe. “I wish I could have seen that!”  _ You and me both _ . “And then what? She stole Potter’s broom, right?”

“Yes, she jumped up and snatched it out of the air and flew out the window, dangling from the handle like she was going to drop any second.” I decided to take my breakfast to-go, before the crowd of second years could ask if her teeth were pointed or if she could breathe fire. 

Halfway to Muggle Studies, I spotted Evans, McKinnon and Mary walking to Divination, and tried to catch the latter’s eye. (I didn’t wave or anything foolish, I merely bored holes into the side of Mary’s face with my eyes.) She didn’t look around, but I was joined by Pandora, who linked arms with me and pulled me down the corridor. 

In the past three years I’d come to learn that Pandora had no inhibitions, and one of her favorite things to do was to touch people, especially those who didn’t want to be touched. She was either ruffling my hair or patting my shoulder or in this instance, locking her elbow around the nearest appendage. “Did you finish the open-book quiz on western expansion?”

“That was due last week,” I said, raising an eyebrow as we walked. 

Pandora gasped, clapping her freehand to her mouth. “Was it? It completely escaped my notice-“

“I wouldn’t worry about it, Professor Ribbange is more lenient than Slughorn,” I assured her, opening the door to the classroom and ushering her inside. I only signed up for Muggle Studies because I’d taken Ancient Runes from my tutors— _ or was that a false memory?— _ Divination was rubbish, so of course I’d teased Mary endlessly about her taking it. I did sign up for Arithmancy and hated it, and avoided Care of Magical Creatures like the plague it was. I wasn’t entirely sure why I had such a large aversion to that course, but didn’t think too hard about it at the time. 

Now I was second guessing everything I’d ever done. Every part of my memory felt real, but that was the perfect illusion, wasn’t it? I barely paid attention to Professor Ribbange’s lesson as I tried to imagine what could have gone so horribly awry in my developmental years that would have warranted Obliviation. I was so distracted I almost forgot to say the chant in the mornings and evenings for the next week and a half. 

I’d return nightly to the seventh floor, checking for the vanishing room, but always walked away with dashed hopes. After the first ten days, I began to wonder if I’d been duped, and picked up the habit of keeping the Blood-turner on my person at all times; just in case she tried to steal it back. Again. Then at least I’d have a prayer of catching her like before. 

I was so distracted and in my own head, I almost didn’t notice when the castle was besieged by the largest thunderstorm in a decade. If Sirius hadn’t tracked me down on my way to the seventh floor, I’d have missed my opportunity. “Come on! It’s now or never!” 

“What?” He waved mutely at the lighting crashing around outside the window, and I’ll confess it was a few seconds before I remembered. The task that had consumed my waking days since forever ago—something about my first friend being a werewolf. “Oh! Right!” 

“James and Peter are already there, let’s go!!”

We ran the length of the castle to reach the West wing, down the hidden stairs, through the Soldier's tunnel, to the cave mouth overlooking Hogsmeade. 

Water splashed and sprayed into the cave as the torrent raged on outside. There was a thunderclap directly above us, as lightning flashed over the village. I wouldn’t have been surprised if it struck the Shrieking Shack. Pettigrew, Potter and Remus awaited us on the verge of the storm’s reach, the latter looking a bit confused. “Will someone please tell me what we’re doing down here?” he directed the question at me, telling me without words that the others had refused to break the news to him.

I, on the other hand, had quite enough of secrets for a lifetime. “Remember how we figured out you’re a werewolf in our first year?” Remus nodded, suddenly tense like we’d brought him down here to put him out of his misery. “Well, that’s not the only thing we figured out.”

Potter handed me my phial and Sirius his; the potions had turned into the desired blood red hue, but when I looked at mine, all I could think of was Julianne and how I’d seen her covered in blood twice within a day. We spread out in the cave, (unsure of how much room either of us would need once the transformation was complete,) and in unison, all of us sans Remus pointed our wands to our hearts and chanted, “ _ Amato Animo Animato Animagus!” _

As lightning struck the ground outside, I downed the potion before I could overthink this decision. I couldn’t be completely certain that we’d done everything correctly, but to have come so far and not try... consequences be damned.

I looked around after swallowing, noticing that only Potter had drunk with me--the other two were watching us warily. Before I could protest or call them cowards, I felt a searing pain in my veins, my breath coming in gasps as my heart thumped twice as fast as I normally thought possible. In my peripheral I saw Remus edging towards the tunnel that would lead back up to the castle, his gaze transfixed on his four friends. Beyond him, I thought I saw another figure...but what would _ she _ be doing down here?

An image forced its way to the front of my mind, fangs bared, claws unsheathed and eyes as slits as it released a roar, the same roar that escaped my throat as I fell to my hands and knees. I watched in slight fascination as my thumbs moved up to the back of my wrist and shrank until they were just pads--and then my entire body was seized by an icy sensation as my bones reconfigured, giving way and bending before the animal trying to get out of my mind and into my body. 

_ Hopefully it doesn’t hurt like this everytime I transform because that would be a real drag. _ It lasted for a hundred years, but seconds later it had finished, and while whatever I’d just gone through had been excruciating, the end felt natural, complete. Even the tail, which was long and fuzzy, (just as I’d always seen it in meditation,) didn’t feel terribly weird. 

I lifted my head, which felt a bit heavier than when I’d laid it down on the stone beneath me, looking around at the batch of freshly baked animals the cave now had to offer. Where Potter had been writhing a few minutes ago was a stag, though it was crouching down as it bobbed its head up and down, as if weighing its new antlers. Where Sirius had been stood a large black dog, which was staring right back at me, its tail thumping slightly. 

_ What? _ I wondered, unable to speak English. I got to my four feet, feeling lithe and powerful, glancing over my shoulder to gaze at my flank.  _ Ha. I have a flank. Now, where’s Pettigrew? _

I heard a sudden squeak in alarm, the dog barked  _ just to prove he could _ and the stag stood to its full height, releasing an odd shriek. Remus stood in the tunnel’s entrance, completely dumbfounded as he watched the four of us test our new transformations. Something small moved near me and with one heavy paw I pinned the rat down by its hindquarters. The dog was in my face in seconds, tugging at my forelimb, and wouldn’t stop until I let the rat go. He scuttled over to the stag, climbing up into his antlers like they were tree branches. I felt an urge to pounce the both of them, but refrained, aware of the points on the stags horns.

“Guys..?” Remus’s nervous voice broke into the potential rough-housing we were all about to pursue. “You can turn back, right?”

I had to remember for a split second  _ how _ to do that, but after I pictured being my regular, human self, a split second later I was back to a hairless, silver-eyed simian. The moment he had hands, Sirius thumped me on the back. “I knew you were going to be a cat!”

I curled my lip at him. “I’m not your run-of-the-mill ally cat, which is more than I can say for you, Rover.”

“I couldn’t see either of you!” cried Pettigrew. “Just a pair of glowing eyes in the dark--it was scary, but cool!”

“Well let’s not forget about the reindeer,” Sirius reached over and made Potter’s unruly hair all the worse. “Always knew you had it in you!”

Remus stared around at all of us, unsure of what to think or say. “As impressive as this accomplishment is...dare I ask what it was all for?”

“Well, last year Professor McGonagall told everyone that it was almost impossible for underage wizards and witches to become Animagi, and you know these idiots,” I gestured at my cousin and Potter, who nodded eagerly. “All they heard was a challenge.”

“And also,” Pettigrew chipped in. “We think we’ll be able to help you on the full moon this way.”

Remus went rigid, his expression of awe vanishing, to be replaced by the most strict disposition you’ve never seen on a fourteen year old boy. “ _ What!? _ You can’t be serious! I’m dangerous when I’m transformed, I have no control--what if I hurt one of you!?”

“Good one, Peter,” Potter muttered in an undertone as Remus continued to yell at us, louder than the storm outside.

“Yeah, you made it angry,” Sirius added, before trying to convince Remus to calm down. 

“Remus, as a werewolf, you aren’t dangerous to other animals; don’t take me a for a fool, I did the research,” I said, ignoring the looks from Potter and Sirius. Potter was probably upset when I once again excluded myself from the imbecilic category, while Sirius was probably remembering my close-and-personal experience with Remus’s other half. “Whatever happens next full moon, it’s not your fault. We chose to do all this, and I think you’ve learned by now that you can’t stop any of us from doing exactly what we want.”

He simmered for another minute or so before finally relaxing enough to ask, “But what if I see you three as a werewolf,” -he was excluding Sirius- “and my first inclination is to eat you two-” he pointed at Pettigrew and Potter. “-and chase you?” he pointed at me. 

I coughed. “I’m not a cat!”

“Technically you’re a  _ big _ cat,” said Potter unhelpfully.

“With all the temptations and instincts of a cat,” Pettigrew added, looking sideways at me.

Scoffing, I said, “I wouldn’t eat you for love or money, I actually care about what I ingest.”

We all ignored Sirius, who muttered, “ Damn. ”

“Besides,” I continued, turning to Remus. “I’m just as much of a predator, and maybe more, than a werewolf. You might get on better with me than with the dog, who is more inclined to chase his own tail.”  Again, we ignored Sirius, who made a comment about chasing tail.

Remus sighed. “Are you sure?”

“Of course not,” said James Potter lightly. “But when has that ever been an issue?”

 

* * *

 

The first signs of dawn were creeping across the horizon by the time I parted ways with them, heading towards Ravenclaw Tower with a yawn. I was at the base of the stairway when I sensed someone behind me. Ready to talk my way out of point deductions or detention, I turned on the spot to see which Prefect had spotted me. But instead of a student or even the caretaker, I saw none other than Julianne. She’d abandoned all pretenses of trying to look like a student, her long hair falling down her back freely, and I wondered where she’d found a muggle t-shirt and denim trousers, but the whole ensemble reminded me of someone...I just couldn’t put my finger on it. 

Arms crossed over her chest, she was leaning against the wall, a calm, but exhausted grin tugging on the corners of her mouth. “Hey.”

“Hi,” I said dejectedly. It’d been a whole two weeks--I thought for certain that she’d have deserted by now. 

Correctly interpreting my tone, or I don’t know, maybe she  _ read _ it, she went, “For someone willing to spend the last four years trying to become an Animagus in secret, self-taught at that, you’re not very patient.” She gave me a knowing look and tilted her head. “Congratulations, by the way. You don’t see a lot of panthers around Hogwarts, though, so I’d be sparing, if I were you.”

“Like you know anything about it,” I growled, hoping to put her in place, but it had the opposite effect.

Nodding sagely she replied, “Oh yes, I know all about it. The many times I wished to be a rabbit or a robin...something less noticeable, but oh well.” Before I could ask what or if she was an Animagus, which wouldn’t surprise me much at this point, she went on, “I was going to tell you earlier but you seemed a bit preoccupied...but I’ve done all the reading and preparing necessary to do what you’ve asked of me. We can start as soon as you’re ready.”

“Now,” I said quickly, taking a step towards her. “Let’s go.”

She quirked up a single eyebrow and shook her head. “You’re not hearing me-”

“You said whenever I’m ready,” I paraphrased. “I’m ready  _ now _ .”

“And I’m saying you’re not. I told you that you could change. I told you that once I’ve started there’s no going back-”

“No you haven’t.”

“-I just did, shut up. It was implied, anyway. Look,” she sighed. “If there’s anything you want to do, say, or whatever before we begin, you’d better do it right away. Because the person you are now, part of him is a lie, and when we erase the lie, part of you will be gone forever.” She shuffled her feet, looking at her metal arm. “Take if from someone who knows; you don’t want to rush ahead, ignoring all that you’ve left behind…”

“If you start talking about an old boyfriend I’m going to vomit.” The words left my mouth before I could think, a curse from not sleeping in quite some time.

“Tsk. I’ve never had--nevermind. Just do what you need to do. I’ll come to you when  _ I _ know you’re ready.” With a slightly sarcastic salute, she disappeared down the corridor before I could formulate a proper argument to her proposal.


	11. No Regrets

When I asked Professor Flitwick about the vanishing room off the seventh floor corridor, he felt my wrist and asked if I needed to visit Madam Pomfrey. Professor McGonagall suggested I get in more hours of sleep and Professor Sprout only shook her head, a blank expression on her face. 

So I was left to wait on a girl who hadn’t been born yet, hiding in a dead-end corner of the castle in a room that didn’t exist. Okay, so maybe I needed some sleep. It took me a day to remember what Julianne had specifically instructed, it having been given when the owls were retiring for the night. But even remembering didn’t help me to understand what she expected me to do. I had no regrets, nothing to amend or fix up before I rid myself of any falsehoods in my life. Mind-reader or not, this Julianne girl didn’t know me…

Or did she? She was from the future, after all, was she connected to my own, somehow? 

Well, that answer was clear as day—the Blood-turner had taken her to me and I to her. Maybe she was…  _ no, don’t think about that.  _

It wasn’t possible that she was a member of the Black family—for one thing she lacked any of the traits.  _ Stormy eyes, proud features, irritable disposition… _ no. That didn’t describe Julianne one bit. 

“Earth to Lux,” Alice tapped the side of my head. “Hello?” 

“Stop it,” I grumbled, craning my neck to keep my head out of her reach. She only leaned over and stuck the end of her quill in my ear. 

“You promised to help me with Arithmancy, but you keep drifting off.” She squinted at me through her eyelashes. “What has you so distracted? Or is it a who?” 

“Hark who’s talking,” I shot back, raising both eyebrows. “How’s Longbottom?”

She blushed, but kept the course. “Frank is wonderful. He’s studying for his OWL exams. We still have regular exams, which I’d very much like to pass with your help. I helped you study for Herbology, now it’s time for you to repay me—but first, we get this distraction out of the dark recess of your mind and into the open.” She glanced around with a knowing smile. “Is it Mary?”

Some organ jumped into my throat—hard to tell if it was my heart, liver or both of my kidneys—but despite my initial thoughts being miles away from the Gryffindor girl, I felt as though I’d been caught in a spotlight. Did I entertain thoughts about Mary? No. Did I allow the occasional, passing glance? Maybe. Did I want to discuss it with Alice?  _ Over my dead body.  _

“It is!” Alice gasped, without allowing me to say anything. Was she a Legilimens as well?  _ I didn’t see that elective in third year… _ “Oh it’s written all over your face!”  _ Dang it.  _ “This is wonderful! How long have you liked her?”  _ Stop her! _

“I don’t! I haven’t—“  _ I sound like an uneducated idiot.  _ “Shut up—we have a lot of work to finish.”

“Lux and Mary sittin’ atop a tree,” she sang in an undertone, turning back to her numbers with an annoying grin. 

“Watching Alice fail Arithmancy,” I added before she could hit her stride. It worked, as she broke off to glare up at me, though the grin remained. I made her pay dearly for making me feel all out of sorts, teaching her to solve her problems the long way round like everybody else instead of the shortcut I’d discovered last year. By the time we’d finished, she was ready to sink into the floor and never look at her copy of  _ Numerology and Gramatica _ again.

I tried to ditch her in the library, but she threw all her things haphazardly into her bag and followed after me. “Don’t think I’m finished with you, sir! What are you going to do about Mary?”

“I didn’t realize anything  _ needed _ to be done,” I replied evasively. 

She bumped into me with her shoulder. “Oh don’t give me that. Do you want me to figure out if she likes you back?” She wiggled her eyebrows in a playful manner. “Because I can-!”

I gave her a pained grimace. “I don’t want that—I don’t want any of that—just keep your bleeding mouth shut.”

Alice crowed. “I’d never thought of you as being a shy one—the way you talk to people who get in your business: I’d imagine you grabbing her by the waist in front of the entire school and-”

“Don’t confuse me with Longbottom,” I said, cutting her off before she could get carried away. “Focus all your energy on him and leave me be.”

She sighed in exasperation. “What? Leave you to wallow in silent misery?”

“It’s worked for me so far,” I wasn’t really paying attention to words now. I just wanted to get away from her probing questions. I didn’t have time to think about Mary—I apparently had things in my life I needed to clear out, or Julianne would never help me. 

Alice hesitantly placed her hand on my shoulder, warning me that whatever she was about to say, it was said in plainness. “Lux, you’re one of my friends...so I’m going to help you.” 

I turned to snap at her, but she was already walking away. I stood there filled with anger, anxiety, and some warm sensation I couldn’t name. “Alice!” She glanced back, her smile a question.  _ She’s on your side, _ I reminded myself.  _ You don’t get a lot of those.  _ “...Thank you.”

 

—

 

At length, I decided that I should write to my father. That way, whatever I discovered when Julianne broke the modification on my memory, I would at least have had the chance to say what was on my mind as I was. Claiming a desk in the common room, I set out a blank piece of parchment and inked my favorite quill, holding it over the page as I gathered my thoughts. 

_ Dear Father, _

I considered the phrasing and scratched out Dear. 

_ Father,  _

...Now what? 

_ I face a difficult _

I crossed that out before I could even think of a way to end that catastrophe.

_ I stand on the verge of change. _

Practically clawed that into non-existence.

“Hey.”

I jumped and nearly snapped my neck as I turned to look Damocles, who was hovering over the other seat. “What.”

He cleared his throat and nodded at the chair he was currently guarding. “Do you mind?”

Believing that he intended to drag the chair to another table with his friends, I nodded. Imagine my shock when he settled beside me and began pulling out his Transfiguration notes. I stared at him for a minute while he did this, setting up his essay for reference and began to review like anyone failing McGonagall’s class would do. After another minute or so he noticed my stare and looked up with both eyebrows raised.

“I don’t understand this sudden change in behaviour,” I stated. “What is going on here?” 

Damocles grimaced, apparently hoping to avoid this admittance until later. “It’s very simple. Turns out Roy is an idiot who talks big; at first I thought his inadequacy was due to inexperience but over the last four years I’ve come to realize that he himself is an inadequate wizard. Quirinus I’d rather avoid because he’s so terribly dull. The fact remains that the only one with intelligence to match mine in our entire year is you, and thus I propose we put an end to our childish animosity.”

“I will agree under one condition,” I replied stiffly.

“And what might that be?”

“If you can stop speaking to me like the pretentious git I’ve always imagined crushing beneath my boot.”

With a straight face, Damocles shrugged. “Fair enough.” We lapsed into our own thoughts--him and his failure to understand simple Transformative power, and me in my failure to write a comprehensive letter to my father. It wasn’t long before I caught him glancing just a little too often at my increasingly scratched-out letter. 

“Do you mind?”

He cleared his throat. “Well, I was just wondering whether you were writing your will or a suicide note.” He shook his head sagely as he continued, “it wouldn’t do if my new friend suddenly disappeared so shortly after the initial agreement.”

“Its a letter for my father,” I coughed. 

Damocles snorted rather rudely. “You write to your father the way I’d write to the Minister for Magic.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He glanced at my face before answering, to make sure that I was being serious and not aggressive. “Well, the general practice of writing to a member of your family requires--” he caught sight of my face again before changing tact. “Just relax. Write to him the way you would speak to him. A close family member shouldn’t require such formality.”

That made sense...why hadn’t I thought of it first? I nodded, gesturing to Damocles’ notes. “Have you based all your studying off of these?”

“Why?” he demanded, suddenly defensive.

“According to Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration, it is impossible to conjure food out of thin air,” I began matter-of-factly, but perhaps not as boastfully as I would have before.

“I know that.”

“I can see that, but your notes would have you believe that absolutely no food can materialize from magic.” I explained further, hoping it would click without my having to spell it out. 

“So?” 

I withdrew my wand and held it up for him to see. “Food can be multiplied, enlarged, or summoned, but it cannot be conjured, however…”  _ Come on, prove you’re not an idiot. _

“...The same applies to liquids,” he finished  _ incorrectly _ . I coughed, and pointed my wand at Roy, who was bragging to a group of second year girls.

“...why yes, I have earned the highest score in Charms--outlasted all records the school has had to date since the time of the founders themselves, I should be expecting an Order of Merlin any moment now…” was the latest fib out of his mouth.

Aiming for his perfectly quaffed hair, I said, “ _ Aguamenti! _ ” 

Damocles bit his tongue as a jet of water arched beautifully across the common room, landing only on Roy’s head, though a few second year girls were in the splash zone. Shaking and sputtering, Roy cried aloud and spun on the spot to locate his attacker. (I’d tactfully replaced my wand in its inner pocket.) “Who-! What in the name of-! How dare-!”

“Oy!” the Head Girl, named Millicent Bagnold, glared at him from where she was reading on the window seat with her boyfriend. “Shut up, Lockhart!”

Damocles and I turned back to our desk, exchanging secret grins. He mouthed something to the effect of, ‘Oh I see now’, before correcting his notes. Feeling decidedly more relaxed, I located the proper words to send to my father.

I was sure not to mention the mysterious and questionable time-traveler, but I told him about trivial things I didn’t talk to anyone else about like my opinions on the teachers and the way they conduct their classes. I knew he liked Quidditch so I wrote about how the Ravenclaw team had been playing their favorites for the past three years and it was the sole reason my house was in last for the House cup. He hadn’t told me anything about Mother, anything I knew about the late Sylvia Black I’d learned on my own behind his back, but perhaps if I... _ Oh, well, maybe. _ I hesitated to write anything about Mary, mainly because he’d check her blood status and I couldn’t be sure how he’d feel about the fact that I harbored a skipped heartbeat for a half-blood.  _ Although, Andi married a Muggleborn and he didn’t bat an eyelid.  _ The same could not be said for her widowed father...So I wrote sparingly about Mary, if only to bait him into at least considering telling me more about how he and Mother met. I doubted any reply he might send would reach my hands before I started training with Julianne, but he deserved the opportunity to open the issue himself.

After proofreading, sealing, and dashing to the owlery to send it off, I found myself wandering through the corridors. I should have returned to my dormitory straightaway, it being late in the evening, but I hoped that I’d turn around a corner and see her leaning against a window, or step out from behind a suit of armor, or jump out of an unused classroom--something! I must’ve circled the seventh floor around four times before I reluctantly began to hike back towards the west wing, my ears pricked for the slightest sound. 

_ There’s the Soldier’s tunnel...she could still stop me...okay that’s the portrait of the mad knight who challenges anyone stupid enough to stop and talk to him...she could still appear...there’s the spiral staircase, where the heck is she? _ I actually came to a full stop and looked around the corridor, yet still I heard and saw nothing out of the ordinary.

“Oh come on,” I sighed, turning to climb the stairway, leaving all my hopes behind. I guess she knew exams started in the morning.  _ Stupid mind-reading nonsense. _

 

\--

 

I used to find Herbology as a bothersome subject. Since taking the fourth year exam I now find it abhorrent. I never wanted to look at a snargaluff pod or a mimbulus mimbletonia again. I didn’t fair so well at Potions either, mainly because my ears had neglected to listen whenever Slughorn opened his mouth, not that it mattered much—he’d picked out his favorites back in our first year and hasn’t strayed since. Alice used to tell me that I could’ve been one of the  _ chosen _ , if only I’d bothered to be polite, but I couldn’t take a bigot like Slughorn seriously. 

“There you are, Whiskers!”  _ Speaking of which.  _ I turned and caught Sirius’s arm with my throat as he slung it around my shoulders. He and Potter had been brainstorming for nicknames ever since the night our Animagus forms had been revealed. I’d been excluded from the idea committee when I’d called them Prancer and Spot. They hadn’t quite settled on any one name yet, so far as I could tell, they were just trying out a few to see how it felt. ‘Whiskers’ was the latest failure, though it wasn’t as bad as ‘Pussyfoot’, ‘Kitten’, or ‘Bitsy Pookums’. 

“‘Lo there, Fido,” I grunted, turning around to relieve the pressure off my Adam’s apple. 

“I told you he wouldn’t like Whiskers,” Potter said sagely. “I think it’s time to revisit Bitsy Pookums.”

“Not on your life!” 

“Enjoy the Transfiguration exams, Pollux?” Remus asked, easing the friction in the conversation. 

“They were alright, I almost felt challenged this year,” I replied dryly. 

“Well I thought they were splendiferic!” announced Potter, his eyes following a certain redhead across the courtyard. Sirius nudged me as the tell-tale hand rose to ruffle the unruly hair and we both smirked. 

“That’s not even a word,” I said, refusing to let my own eyes follow a certain blonde who was walking with said certain redhead. 

“It should be.”

“I fell asleep during our History of Magic test,” Pettigrew admitted. “I was still ten questions away but the window was open so there was a pleasant summer breeze and I haven’t slept in three days.”

“Studying all night?”

“No, Remus snores around this time of month,” Sirius and Potter nodded to tell me that this was in fact true. I came to the conclusion on my own that this was due to the new moon--giving Remus no reason to have a restless sleep. Poor kid deserved the odd snore, of course  _ I _ could say that--I didn’t share a dorm with him.

“If it bothers you so much,” said the snorer defensively. “You need only roll me on my back.”

“Which is a fine theory,” Sirius added, “except you sleep in a ball in the middle of your mattress. And you growl if any of us so much as move.”

“I do not!”

I shut my ears to their pointless arguing; Alice had just entered the courtyard, and with a meaningful wink in my direction, she skipped over to join Evans, McKinnon and Macdonald.  _ Oh no. Cease and desist Fortescue! Cease and desist!! _ While I was trying to find a way to approach Alice and wring her neck without being conspicuous, a sudden movement in my peripheral grabbed my attention. 

Sirius and Potter had tensed, then withdrew their wands as a group of Slytherins emerged into the daylight. Like a murder of crows, they settled around the fountain, after scaring off the first years who had taken up residence there previously. I could already hear the barrage of jinxes my cousin and his best mate had planned for the devil’s spawn; they’d never quite forgiven Mulciber and his minions for bullying Pettigrew. (Not that it was an issue anymore, all the cowardly bloke needed to do was hide behind Sirius, Potter, Remus or in rare cases myself, when he felt threatened and he’d be in a safe zone. And then I’d chase him away when the danger had passed. But even I didn’t dare taunt him while the other three were watching. Speaking in animal terms: Pettigrew was pack, or a part of the herd.)

Speaking in animal terms: the hunt was on. Sirius shot first, hitting Crabbe with a jellylegs jinx, which made him fall on top of Mulciber. Potter was next, firing off a few more colorful hexes at random targets, just to cause general panic for them, widespread amusement for anyone watching.

“Potter!”  _ Well, ALMOST anyone. _ Evans had drawn herself up to her full height, which would have been impressive a year ago, but the girls had started to slow in growth while the boys were starting to pick up the slack. “Black! Just what do you think you’re doing?!”

“Nothing to worry about, poppet,” said Sirius pleasantly. “Just taking out the trash.”

“You didn’t see them scare off the first years, Evans, you were busy braiding McKinnon’s hair,” Potter explained, before hexing Avery purely because he could. 

“And you couldn’t just ask them to move??” Evans demanded, hands on her hips. If she aged about a century and wore tartan, she’d be the exact replica of McGonagall. “Simply attacking them is beneath…” she hesitated, and I could tell by her face that she doubted whether  _ anything _ was beneath James Edmund Potter at that moment. “...You  _ should _ know better!”  _ And yet, here we are! _

“If I could interject,” groaned Mulciber from beneath Crabbe, his arm waving feebly. 

“Stuff it, Mulciber,” Sirius warned. 

“We don’t need a mudblood to protect us!” one of the others sneered. Evans flinched, but Potter, Sirius, and I stood around her defensively. If it hadn’t been for the whole secrecy thing, I’d have had little qualms with transforming right then and there and unleashing a panther on the foul-mouthed miscreant. Before any of us could fire off another spell, or I could blow the unregistered Animagus act to smithereens, Professor Altier spotted the four raised wands and came storming over. 

“What in the name of Helga Hufflepuff are you doing? Wands away! Wands away!” Reluctantly, I stowed mine, noticing Evans stowing hers from where she’d been pointing it at Potter’s neck. “Heaven perserve us, what is going on here?” Immediately a clamour of answers rose up.

“They started it, Professor-”

“It was Potter’s fault!”

“They just kicked the first years off the fountain, what were we supposed to do-”

“Honestly, Professor, I tried to tell them-”

Altier waved her hands over the noise and confusion, before pointing at me. “Mr. Black, you’re an honest sort,” Evans exhaled in annoyance behind me. “Explain.”

_ Crap. _ “Right.” Well aware that there were about twenty or so witnesses aside from those directly involved to contradict me, I stated, “The Slytherins entered the courtyard, encouraged about ten first years through means of intimidation and harsh gestures that they should volunteer their seats at the fountain. Seeing this, Potter and my cousin felt the need to give the first years their seats back, through means of magical vindictiveness. Evans attempted to persuade them to stop by harsh words and that’s when the Slytherins, feeling guilt or humiliation or both, decided to call her a very inappropriate term for someone calling for justice.”

The Professor glanced around at the onlookers to confirm my words, and when no one (but the Slytherins directly involved) disagreed, she set her mouth in a grim line. “Well, I’m afraid I’ll have to give each of you detention.” In the upheaval that arose she waved her wand, silencing all of us. “Instead of hexing or disrupting this pleasant afternoon with incessant shouting, you should have sent for a teacher like myself to settle the dispute from the start! I know exams have passed but there’s still a week before the term comes to an end. In that time, I’m sure the staff will be more than eager to release their tensions by watching each and every one of you work off your punishment.” She then gave a note to each of the Slytherins to turn into Professor Slughorn, a note for Sirius, Potter, Evans to turn into McGonagall, and a note for me to give to Flitwick. 

Ignoring the death glares I was given by nearly everyone after Altier departed, I gathered up my bag and entered the castle. At least my first detention would be completed in peace.

 

\--

 

“Don’t worry about a thing,” Sirius clapped my shoulder as we waited for Professor Kettleburn. Apparently Flitwick, ever the considerate teacher, thought I’d find detention alone rather daunting. Clearly he hadn’t paid attention to my pattern over the years. Or maybe he thought that the perfect punishment for me was to spend an hour or two with the reasons for my being in trouble to begin with. I was content to sit and watch the dispute until Evans got involved. It was around then that Mary had started paying attention too…  _ Anyway _ . “Detention is nothing to be afraid of: James and I should know, we’ve only had it eighty times or so.” He glanced over my shoulder at Evans, who figured between the three options, I was the less insane. “That goes for you as well, Evans.”

She rolled her eyes and tossed her hair over one shoulder where it brushed across my face like the softest slap in the world. “I wouldn’t even be here if you and Potter could act your age. Where is Potter, anyway?” She glanced around the boathouse nervously.

“He’s right over-” Sirius made a show of looking around the apparently vacant boathouse. “-oh. Well now that is odd.”

I grimaced, wondering whether Potter was dumb enough to bring his invisibility cloak to a detention or not. Evans caught sight of my face and tugged on my sleeve. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” I muttered, leering around at the seemingly vacant boats and wondering where Potter had redundantly hidden himself. Predicting my thought process, Sirius tugged on my other sleeve and shook his head slightly. Well, if Potter wasn’t invisible, then where was he?

“If this is one of your stupid pranks, Black, I’m not having it!” Evans turned on the spot, until the double doors to the boathouse opened up and Potter stuck his head inside. 

“Kettleburn’s waiting, are you coming or what?” He then winked cheekily and retreated back outside. Evans grumbled something unladylike under her breath as we marched out onto the grounds where the Professor and Potter stood beside the lake. 

“Welcome to detention,” Professor Kettleburn began. “Now, as some of you have neglected to take my Care of Magical Creatures class, this might seem a bit uncouth, but I assure you, it’s perfectly safe.” 

I knew Sirius and Potter took CoMC, but I was also certain that they didn’t take it because it was ‘safe’. Professor Kettleburn had sacrificed quite a few of his fingers to his teaching career, and the rumor was it was only a matter of time before he lost something a bit more important, like his head. 

“Now then, your teachers instructed you to bring swim clothes, yes?” There it was, the reason for my discomfort and reluctance this early evening. It was June, so the sun was still above the horizon, while the air was warm...and yet I knew that the Black Lake would always be a frigid temperature, no matter how many suns beat upon its murky surface all day long. I hadn’t read that in  _ Hogwarts: a History _ or anything, it was just one of those logical conclusions. “Very good. The Merpeople need some help with their Grindylow infestation, so what you’re going to do--yes, Ms. Evans?”

Evans lowered her hand, if only to fidget with her school robes, which she’d hugged around herself self-consciously. “I’m sorry, but did you say ‘Merpeople’?” 

“Yes, my dear, of a hardy Scottish strain, I believe. If you’d taken my course with your housemates, you’d know this. Now--the Grindylows haven’t been properly facilitated--they should normally keep to the lake weeds in the shallower areas but lately they’ve been crowding the Merpeople at the very bottom; and Professor Dumbledore himself agreed to see that this was taken care of. You should all feel proud to know that he and Professor McGonagall have placed this in your trust.”

“Of course, sir,” I said, scratching my neck. “But you’ve yet to tell us what and how we’re to help. Or are we the bait?”

Professor Kettleburn laughed, though I was still convinced using fresh bait was within his range. “I suppose those are rather important details, Mr. Black! Now then, two of you will work with the Merpeople, chasing stray Grindylow out of their villas and caves, and the other two will search through the lake weeds and find the cause of the misplaced wildlife.”

“And we’re expected to what-? Hold our breaths?” I asked impatiently, ignoring Evans, who smacked my arm for speaking disrespectfully to a teacher. 

Professor Kettleburn gave me a look my father called the ‘hairy eyeball’, before revealing to us a quick and rather advanced spell called the Bubble-Headed charm. Sirius made a joke about Potter’s head already being big, so the spell wouldn’t work, and he got a helping of hairy eyeball as well. 

“Ms. Evans, I want you and Mr. Black to negotiate with the Merpeople—oh yes, I’m sorry, that’s Sirius—Pollux and Mr. Potter will work in the weeds.”

Whether or not he was aware: Flitwick had nailed the perfect detention for me. Lesson learned: don’t get caught breaking the rules. 

Potter looked equally happy about the division: obviously Kettleburn had enough of his antics with Sirius during his lessons, and whether by a warning or sheer luck he’d known not to let him near Evans. Without supervision, anyway. 

“Well, get a move on! The Merpeople are waiting on you!” Kettleburn ushered us into the shallows. Sirius and Potter disrobed without hesitation, while Evans avoided looking at any of us, hugging herself. Taking pity on her, I discarded my shirt and school robe, pointed my wand at Potter and cast the charm over him, myself, and then shoved his bobble-head into the water. 

I had time to cast a distorted grimace at Sirius and Evans before a hand grabbed my ankle and dragged me further out into the shallows, after knocking me off balance, of course. 

Never had I gone for a dip in the Black Lake before, which seemed a shame in retrospect as it was probably named after one of my ancestors. I couldn’t help but drink in the scenery, no pun intended. At first the water seemed dark and foreboding, but the further down Potter and I swam, the more greenish blue everything seemed. The weirdest part was how nothing was still, though the absence of sound would suggest that everything should be. I spotted the bed of lake weed swaying back and forth to a rhythm I couldn’t listen to; I nudged Potter, who was taking the time to watch the distant figures of Sirius and Evans dive down towards the middle of the lake. He looked over at me, and through the bubble-head charm I spotted the condescending frown we’d reserved especially for one another over the years. Pointing to the forest of kelp and whatnot, I started to lead the way down. 

I knew he blamed me for this whole situation, and the fact that he wasn’t allowed to work with my cousin or the girl of his fantasies probably didn’t help either. He’d told me plenty of times since yesterday afternoon that all I had to do was lie to Professor Altier. ‘ _ Nobody would have argued, and we would all have walked away! _ ’

‘ _ Evans would have told her if I hadn’t. _ ’ I’d argued.

‘ _ I’d have handled Evans, _ ’

‘ _ Oh I’m sure, just as certainly as the Slytherins would have grovelled at her feet for forgiveness. _ ’

‘ _ All I’m saying is you didn’t have to lay it out like you were presenting a homework assignment.’ _

‘ _ And you didn’t have to pick on a group of Slytherins who believe in a thing called retribution! _ ’

And from there, it only grew worse. I’d never pretended to like Potter since he burst into our compartment on the train, but I hadn’t objected to his being Sirius’s friend neither. It was around the times I couldn’t speak to Sirius without Potter interfering that he started to get under my skin. (In other words: ALWAYS.)

Nevertheless, here we were, swimming through the gloomy underwater forest as we searched for something that could scare a Grindylow. Maybe our disgruntlement with one another should have taken a backseat as we banded together to fulfill the mission set before us. I regret to say that the notion didn’t cross either of our minds, though I wish it had, most especially when we discovered the problem. 

I motioned for Potter to stay close when the kelp became thicker and taller, so naturally he ignored me and swam parallel-or at least I had to assume that’s what he was doing. I kept my eyes peeled, glancing this way and that, aware that the longer we were uninterrupted, the more creepy the lake seemed. We hadn’t seen so much as a fish, let alone a water demon or anything. I kept trying to ignore the notion that the weeds ahead of me were going to split apart to reveal the massive eye of some monster that was capable of swallowing a young man in a single gulp. 

Something moved to my left and I swerved around, my arms churning wildly.  _ That had better have been Potter or I’m gonna… _ The thing, whatever it was, moved again, and it had one too many limbs to be a gangly teenage boy. My first instinct was to swim upwards as fast as possible and not look back; let Potter deal with whatever was scaring away Grindylows and apparently everything else. The only reason I stayed put was because I knew that if I did run now, Potter would never let me hear the end of it. And there was the risk that word of my cowardice would get back to Mary…  _ Get ahold of yourself, Pollux! _

I rotated in the kelp forest, my eyes on the large figure that was swimming past, so focused I didn’t notice something rising to my right until it knocked on my bubble. I lashed out on pure reaction, kicking Potter in the ribs. He punched my chest in retaliation, though both blows were greatly muted by the water resistance. Cursing him for the distraction, I peered through the swirling, dancing plants to find the merest hint of the creature again, when Potter knocked on my bubble once more. 

Resisting the urge to grind my teeth, (or cough because I wasn’t entirely sure how oxygen worked in these things,) I turned my head to look at him, eyebrows raised. He pointed up above us towards the surface, likely suggesting that we give up. Shaking my head, I continued to search for the thing I’d seen before. It had four, possibly five limbs...a bit bigger than I was tall...shouldn’t be terribly difficult to spot. And there was Potter, knocking on my bubble a third time. 

I turned to face him, not bothering to hide my irritation, but he wasn’t looking at me anymore, his eyes were trained on the surface. Deciding to humor him purely so he’d leave me alone, I looked up. We weren’t that far beneath the water, which was probably why the sight above was so alarming. I couldn’t see the sun anymore, though I knew it was still airbourne, because there was a massive shadow in the way. It had four fins that were shaped like spades, and a long tail, with an even longer neck. 

I’d seen pictures. I’d heard fairy tales, myths. None of them prepared me for the water horse that was gazing somewhat quizzically down at Potter and I. It was almost endearing, until it began to swim at us. 

Potter dodged left, I went forward, and that began the worst swim of my life. Not because the serpentine dinosaur followed me, but because it went after him. Potter swam like a maniac, his arms and legs slicing through the water desperately, through the lake weed and kelp in an attempt to hide from the monstrous creature that pursued him. I swam up above the tangling plants to get a better vantage point before pointing my wand at the creature. “ _ Colo... _ no that’s not right...uhm...hang on, what’s the rope spell?”

The water horse grabbed Potter in its mouth as I hesitated, my panicked brain not working as it should. I caught sight of his distorted and frightened expression as the creature used its long neck to swirl him around.  _ Oh forget the rope spell! _ “ _ Immobulus! _ ” I yelled, firing a flare of light through the water at the thing eating Potter, though I’d yet to see any red join the serene blue-green of the underwater world. The beast froze, the Gryffindor still trapped in its jaws. I swam downward to pry them open and set him free, but once he’d drifted away from the thing’s mouth, Potter began to sink, not float. His bubble had popped and somewhere in the swirling he must’ve fallen unconscious. I swam beneath him, hooked my elbows beneath his arms and kicked upwards towards the fading sunlight. 

Did I mention how eerie the Black Lake was? Thus far I’d managed to ignore the cold, the soundlessness, and the terrible feeling that something was watching me. While I kicked upwards towards the surface, unable to move as fast or as freely as I would’ve normally with the extra load wanting nothing more than to drop down, a terrible thought invaded my head. 

**There’s no way. You’re not strong enough to save both of you. You have to let him go.**

I kicked harder, shoving that ugly feeling out of my brain. I wasn’t going to pretend I liked James Edmund Potter, but I refused to be responsible for his death. 

When my head finally broke the surface, the spell wore off immediately, allowing me to gulp down fresh air. Potter remained comatose in my arms, so I was forced to alternate between pushing and pulling him back to shore where I could see Sirius and Evans standing with Professor Kettleburn. 

When Sirius realized I was the only one swimming, he jumped back into the water and met me halfway, grabbing Potter’s other side and pushing with me while I kept his head above water. When my feet hit the muddy, but shallow bottom, I thought I was going to collapse on the spot, the weight returning to my arms and legs, along with a burning sensation in my muscles. Sirius and I hauled James up onto the grass, laying him flat on his back, hoping he’d wake up and start coughing, but he remained unconscious.

Evans covered me with a towel and began rubbing my arms while Sirius did the same to James, all the while talking to him, hoping he would give a sign of life.

“What happened?” Professor Kettleburn inquired. I shook my head, not willing to share the story, not now. He had to wake up first, even if the only thing he’d do was argue with me over the details. Seeing that I wouldn’t answer, Kettleburn mentioned something about fetching the nurse before he sprinted back up to the castle. 

Evans shook my shoulder, apparently she’d asked a question and I hadn’t been listening. “Did he swallow any water?”

“What? Yeah, probably, why?” I wondered why I sounded so upset, but didn’t have much time to reflect, given what happened next.

“Sirius, I need you to move,” Evans commanded, pushing my cousin back towards me, forcing us to standby as she did some weird Muggle revival. 

First, she turned James’s head to the side, watching carefully as a trail of water leaked from his mouth and nose. Then, turning his head forward, she tilted it back, pinched his nose and planted one on him. Sirius made a small noise in his throat while I leaned over to get a better perspective because surely, Lily Evans wouldn’t kiss James Potter  _ willingly. _ And I was right, she wasn’t kissing him per say, she was  _ breathing _ into his mouth, like his head was a deflated balloon. After four long puffs, she pulled back, only to hover her ear over his mouth, her emerald green eyes on his chest. She touched two hands to his neck where the pulse ought to be, and then leaned over and repeated the process. 

I was confused, Sirius was confused, and everyone who heard this story thereafter (who wasn’t a muggleborn) was absolutely BAFFLED. 

Unperturbed, Evans continued to do whatever she was doing until (for lack of a better phrasing) James kind of pulsed, and rolled onto his side as he coughed, hacked, and regurgitated about half of the lake. She sat back on her ankles, and sent Sirius and I a look that clearly stated that if we ever repeated this to anyone we would die slowly and painfully. But, as I already mentioned earlier, this story was repeated anyway. 

James sat up, blinking around at all of us in confusion until he locked on me. “What happened?” Sirius and Lily looked at me for a full explanation as well. 

“Right, so it got you,” I began. 

“I remember that part vividly,” he croaked. “Thank you.”

“Well either you hit your head or fainted-”

“I did not faint!” he insisted, while Lily giggled.

“So we agree you hit your head, and then the charm failed and…” I wasn’t entirely sure how to finish the story without sounding like I was bragging.

“Wait,” James furrowed his eyebrows at me. “Did you save me?”

“Well either that or you drifted to shore by yourself,” said Lily, watching me with some kind of odd emotion in her eyes. If she started her Muggle ritual on me I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to refuse. James might help with that.

“How did you stop that thing?!” James demanded.

“WHAT THING?” Sirius yelled, glancing back at the lake as though expecting something to burst out of it.

“You know how when Uncle Cygnus gets drunk and starts telling old folktales? Well one of them is floating through the kelp fields and scaring away all the other fawna.”

“Which one?”

Here’s a fun tip for any witch or wizard at home: the spell  _ Immobulus _ does not last indefinitely. At that precise moment, a long neck with a furious head attached burst out of the water and arched over us, before releasing a high-pitched call. 

“That one,” I muttered as Lily told us all to run. Wrapped in towels and holding our dry clothes aloft, the four of us hightailed it back up to the safety of the castle. 

 

\--

 

James was to stay in the hospital wing where the nurse could keep an eye on his condition for a day or so, while Sirius, Lily and I had to deliver our reports directly to the Headmaster himself. Dumbledore listened with the smallest hint of smile on his face, but I swear he gave me a bit of a frown while I spoke. I found I didn’t like speaking to the Headmaster, because it was as if he was seeing right through me to all the parts I tried to hide. I had a feeling he knew about the girl who fell through time just by looking at me, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it. 

It seemed like everybody could read minds these days, everyone except for me.

At the end of our reports, Dumbledore reassured us that the lake monster would be taken care of at once, and there was no further need for us to worry ourselves or anyone else… So naturally, everyone was talking about the water horse the very next morning and how it had eaten three students before James Potter and Pollux Black had vanquished it. Sirius pouted about his exclusion from the fable until three days later when our exam results were released, and he’d scored better than me in the Transfiguration practical. 

The school year finally at an end, and while trunks were being packed and whispers of summer holiday plans flitted back and forth, I had the nagging feeling that there was something wrong. 

Just as I’d started to convince myself that Julianne had been a figment of my imagination, I spotted her in the Great Hall. She was sitting among the seventh year Hufflepuffs who didn’t seem to question her presence. In fact she was talking to one of them with a big smile on her face. When she rose gracefully to her feet to depart, I abandoned my chicken to follow her out, through the hall, up the marble staircase and onto a moving stair.

“HEY!” I spoke louder than I’d intended, but for crying out loud she’d been hiding in the castle for nearly two months. 

She stopped, not that she had anywhere to go with the staircase swinging around. “Hey.”

“What happened to helping me!?”

Her shoulders went up and down. “I’m always going to help you--you just took your sweet time getting ready for my help.”

I climbed the last few steps so I could face her, just as the stairs came to rest on the fifth floor. “They send us all home tomorrow, how are you going to ‘let my brain adjust’ in twelve hours?”

She raised her eyebrows at me in a silent  _ Really _ ? “Guess I’m spending the summer holidays at the Black Estate.” She blinked at my horrified expression. “Unless you’ve changed your mind and don’t want my help.” She held out her palm. “I’ll take my blood-turner back then, and we’ll go our separate ways.”

“No! But...how am I supposed to explain you?” I spluttered, still trying to understand that she expected to be welcome at Black Estate. 

“Oh,” she sighed. “Well, if there’s ever anything you need to know about me, it’s that I can explain myself. All you have to do is just go with it.”

“You’re real, right?” I blurted out, wanting to reach out and push her just to make sure. Sensing this, she pushed at my shoulder. 

“I’m probably the realest person you’ve ever met,” she said dryly. “See you tomorrow.”

I let her walk away, feeling my stomach churn as I struggled to understand the implications of all that she’d said, and all she was about to do. But I think the thing I struggled with the most was the amount of trust I gave to her. And I still didn’t have a good reason why.

Sometimes I think back on that evening, and wonder if my life would have been better if I’d just given her the blood-turner and allowed her to fall out of my life the same way she’d tripped into it. 

They say ignorance is bliss...but it wasn’t the path I chose. If I had to go back and repeat that evening with Julianne, I’d have done the same thing, but I would asked her one question:  _ Do you know what’s about to happen? _

And while I didn’t before, I now know with full confidence that she’d have said something to the effect of:  _ Most of it. Are you ready? _

_ Yeah...no regrets. _


	12. Lost

To say that I was on the lookout the next morning was an understatement. I nearly broke my neck trying to find Julianne among the hundreds of students crowding onto the train. I practically stalked the Hufflepuffs, believing that she would try to blend into their crowd again. Instead of finding the sandy-haired maiden of doom, I received several strange looks and a not-so-polite invitation to go away. ( I mean, that’s not what they said, but I still had class.) I was ten seconds from using a summoning charm on her to see if I would be pulled towards her (I suspected she might outweigh me purely because she had a mechanical limb) when someone grabbed my arm and pulled me into a compartment full of people. I would have panicked and hexed the offender had it not been Mary, and the people sitting down had been anyone other than my cousins, Remus, Pettigrew, James and McKinnon.  _ Wait a second- _

“That’s the third time you’ve passed our compartment, and we’ve only just left Hogsmeade,” Mary was saying, but I wasn’t looking at her I was staring at Regulus, who was sitting by the window, his nose buried in a book. A tilt of my head and squint in the eye revealed the book to be a textbook called _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ _by Newton Scamander_. Since when did Regulus read about magical and dangerous creatures in his down time? Nevermind that, since when did Regulus sit with his older brother and a plethora of Gryffindors? Regulus had his own group of friends in Slytherin House, what was going-

‘Regulus’ met my gaze over the top of the book and I swear he winked. 

_ Julianne? _ If she could read minds, and if it was her, then there was no reason she couldn’t read me loud and clear. ‘Regulus’ raised his eyebrows and tapped a finger to his mouth. I took that to mean,  _ Yeah, dummy, now play along. _

“Lux! I’m talking to you,” Mary clicked her fingers in my face, bringing me back to the present. “What were you doing marching up and down the train cars?”

“Looking for you,” were the words that decided to fall out of my mouth, while I was still trying to understand how Regulus was Julianne. Was she a shapeshifter as well? The whole compartment went very quiet as my statement registered with everyone including myself; and I rushed to fix it. “All of you. Where did you get that book, Regulus?”

I claimed a seat beside ‘Regulus’ who didn’t put the book down or look up in any way. “I picked it up a while back,” it was my cousin’s voice, then, but the real Reg would have answered something like, ‘That’s not important’, or ‘it doesn’t matter’. Call me paranoid or insane, the person claiming the window seat was not Regulus Arcturus Black. In his right hand, he was holding a bookmark that he let fall on my leg. While the others fell into conversation, I picked it up to stare at the handwriting that wasn’t Reg’s. 

_ Don’t panic, don’t react.  _

_ Regulus is in his own compartment on the other side of the train.  _

_ Your friends don’t mind me, so long as I don’t do anything strictly out of character.  _

_ We’ll talk more at King’s Cross. Just relax.  _

I handed the bookmark back to ‘Regulus’, frowning all the while, as the note had only given birth to more questions while only answering the one. How was she able to do this?? In all my studies of Transfiguration I’d never heard of being able to transform into someone else entirely...well there was technically Metamorphmagi, but they were extremely rare and you could only be born with the ability, not taught. I had discovered (after meeting Julianne) that you could learn Legilimency, but it was very difficult to do unless you already had natural talent.

While I sat there puzzling, ‘Regulus’ reached into his knapsack pulled out a glass canteen filled with a kind of liquid that resembled lemonade except it was more green than yellow and took a swift swig before stowing it away. 

“What about you, Lux?” McKinnon gave my shin a soft kick to grab my attention.

“Huh?”

“What do you want to do after Hogwarts?” Remus asked, helping to clue me into the discussion. 

“I haven’t given it much thought,” I said honestly. 

Sirius gestured at me, as though I’d proved a point he’d previously made, “That’s what I said.”

“How could you not?” Mary demanded, looking up at me in a way that made my stomach churn. “You think of nearly everything else!”

“Well if nothing comes to mind,” James piped up from where he was daydreaming about Lily Evans in the corner, “you’d make a swell monster hunter.”

Mary and McKinnon (and Julianne technically) perked right up at that statement. “Did you really defeat a Kelpie?” McKinnon asked, skepticism lacing her voice.

“It wasn’t a Kelpie, it was a half-matured water horse,” ‘Regulus’ stated from behind ‘his’ book. “And he didn’t kill it, he only froze it long enough to save him.” ‘He’ flicked ‘his’ pinky at James, all without showing ‘his’ face. 

“How do you know?” demanded Sirius, a dark look in his face. “And will you put that book down?!”

“I’d rather not,” ‘Regulus’ replied. I wondered why she’d spoken up at all, although I couldn’t help but focus on the testy note she’d added to Regulus’s normal drawl. She’d corrected McKinnon, and then edified everyone with an impatient air;  _ Well she is reading about magical creatures...maybe they’re her passion. Oh I hope she’s not nuts like Kettleburn… _

“Still,” Mary was apparently arguing on my behalf by the time I came back down to the present. “When I heard the story from Lily I couldn’t believe they got away unscathed.” -at which point James cleared his throat- “Relatively.” She turned to look at me and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “You were really brave.”

McKinnon tsked and turned to Pettigrew. “I hate it when she does that.”

I thought that was a rather rude remark, but Mary didn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, she grinned cheekily and stuck her tongue out at her friend. ‘Regulus’ snickered, probably at my confusion, but for the life of me I couldn’t understand why. The whole affair quite ruined the effect the original statement had made on my person.

* * *

The remainder of the trip consisted of mindless chatter about wishful futures, long and short-term, and also Sirius and James left halfway through the journey to find Lily. Apparently they found her with Snape and to say James reacted badly would be false. He reacted horrendously and nearly stopped the train.  _ Okay that’s an exaggeration, but he and Snape did blow up several windows. _

I think we were all relieved to finally pull into King’s Cross, but none more so than Julianne. She’d taken a sip of her strange liquid periodically, but in the last hour she’d abstained, and as I watched her work stress lines into Regulus’s face, I wished I could read her mind as easily as she read mine. Perhaps for all her confidence, she was afraid of whatever she was about to do to gain access to my family’s property?

Steam washed over the train as everyone rose to their feet and began to crowd towards the train doors. ‘Regulus’ reached over and tapped my knee, “Where is your father?” 

“Don’t be daft, Reg, he’s over there by Kreacher and,” Sirius went pale with alarm as he spotted his mother standing on the far side of the platform. “ Damn.  What is she doing here?”

‘Regulus’ aka Julianne peered towards Walbura and my father, standing with the family house-elf. “Well she’s wearing her ‘bad news’ expression, though how you can differentiate from her usual demeanor…” she trailed off, apparently realizing that the real Regulus would never had said such a thing, at least not in mixed company. “I mean…”

Sirius clapped ‘him’ on the back. “I knew you had it in you!” 

Was it me, or was ‘Regulus’ turning into a blonde? ‘He’ looked up at me warningly, a look that (and may I add that his dark gray eyes were turning brown) ordered me to get everyone out onto the platform pronto. 

“Come on then,” I told Sirius bracingly. “Might as well face the music.”

“On the contrary, I’d like to spend the summer at Hogwarts,” Sirius whined, even as James and I pushed him out of the compartment, shortly followed by the girls, Pettigrew and Remus. There were calls of ‘Have a good summer!’ exchanged, and once the last scrambling student was out of sight, I turned around to speak to part-Regulus-part-Julianne, which was a very strange sight to behold indeed. Whatever enchantment she’d used to impersonate my cousin was clearly wearing off, and I couldn’t help but wonder why she was allowing it. What was her plan?

“Get out on the platform, greet your father as you would normally,” she instructed in a voice that was both hers and my cousins. “I’ll catch up in a minute.”

“What exactly do you think you’re going to-” I began to ask.

“Go!”

Out onto Platform 9 ¾ I marched, dragging my trunk behind me as I pushed through the masses to reach my father. Aunt Burgie and Kreacher were gone, presumably with the real Regulus and Sirius, while he waited patiently by a column of brick.

“There you are,” he greeted with a tight smile. “I’m afraid I have some rather dreadful news.”  _ Oh, well, then you are not going to like what I think is about to happen. _ “You recall your cousin Bellatrix and her husband have been favouring the company of a man by the name of-” he broke off, distracted by something  _ or someone _ behind me. “I say, might I be of assistance to you, young lady?”

I turned my head to find Julianne approaching, her eyes fixed on my father with a kind of audacity I could only aspire to, yet never reach. She was fully herself now: long, sand-colored hair; big, brown eyes and the unfortunate American fashion. She was wearing frayed trousers for Merlin’s sake. Before I could demand (mentally or verbally I didn’t much care) what she was trying to pull, she’d already pulled it. 

“Good afternoon, Mr. Black,” she began boldly. “My name is Julianne Queenie Kowalski, and I should very much like to have a word with you about your son _ s _ .” She placed careful emphasis on the plural, and then finished with a wide smile that gave me gooseflesh.  _ Oh sure, just tell him everything why don’t you--WAIT DID SHE SAY KOWAL- _

“I’m sorry?” Father frowned down at her. “I don’t know who you are, but I-” and then she interrupted him. This was not going to end well.

“Of course not, but that’s not what’s important here.” She clasped her hands behind her back, her head cocked to the side. “We can either talk here, out in the open where anybody could overhear: or we could move to a more-”

Father grabbed my arm tightly and turned on the spot, taking us home in an instant. I wrenched myself away from him, backing up against the understairs cupboard. We stared at each other in a way that made me want to sink into the floor and yet shout as loudly and irrationally as possible, but before I could make a decision, the estate’s security spells all went off at once. 

I clamped my hand over my ears, not that it helped to block out the caterwauling alarm. For a split second I felt actual fear--who on earth had I allowed into my life??? 

Father silenced the alarm and ran to the front doors but as they opened before him, I spotted Julianne Kowalski standing on the edge of the threshold. “-private location.” she finished, as though my father  _ hadn’t _ just tried to run from her. As Father reached for his wand, she said, “I realize my sudden and brazen request comes as something of a nightmare to you, but before you blast me to smithereens, may I offer a counter proposal?”

As she had just invaded the grounds, it occurred to me that Father had every right to blast her and claim self-defense if a legal issue arose. (Technically as she was a time-traveller, no one would come looking for her, but he didn’t know that.) I like to think that her continued politeness or lack of violent threats made him say, “Go on.”

“A simple wizard’s duel. If you render me incapable of fighting back, I will relent and leave you and your son be. But if I am able to best you, we have that word I mentioned before.”

I gulped, watching my father gaze at her in disbelief. There was no way she could win: I’d seen my father fight Walburga and Cygnus for various purposes and he’d always been victorious. She was what--seventeen years old? With some capability in non-verbal magic, and being a mysterious and downright pain  in the arse. But my father didn’t know about any of this: he could only see her as a teenage girl with a big mouth. 

“You can’t be serious.” Father said at last, his wand held loosely in his right hand. 

“I can,” Julianne replied, nodding her head in earnest. “I just choose not to be.”

Father scoffed, before glancing back at me. The unfamiliar look in his eyes made something click for me, and I moved to stand between them, facing the man who’d raised me. “She’s here at my request,”  _ even though technically coming home with me was her idea _ “and I trust her. Father, please, why are you afraid?” I couldn’t believe I hadn’t realized it sooner: the missing parts of my life--if anyone knew what really happened back then, it would be my father. Julianne must’ve seen it immediately, and she (not unlike myself) thought he deserved the chance to come clean before she released my true memories. 

“She-” he hesitated, glaring at Julianne. 

She sighed, and her exhale made the ends of my hair flutter. “I’m not an assassin or a blood-elitist. I’m a half-blood, for crying out loud.”

Father gave a start. “How did you-” I could see him putting two and two together before he said, “You’ve been using Legilimency on me, haven’t you? That’s how you knew where to apparate, and you planned to use it to beat me in a duel.” He shook his head at her, his face a mixture of indignation and incredulity. 

I wasn’t looking at her but I was pretty sure she shrugged at that point. “I could, or you put down your aggressively defensive behaviour and I’ll put down my attitude and we can talk like civilized people.”

Father considered her, then me with a slightly more gentle expression, then back to her. “On one condition,” he said at last. “You surrender your wand to me just as long as you remain on my lands.”

I stepped aside to watch her, and found that she was looking up at him the same way I looked at my homework: with careful calculation. Her reluctance was palpable, and I was pretty sure most of it had to do with the fact that she’d already surrendered her only way home to me. But to surrender her wand was next to giving up a limb... _ and she’d know better than anyone what that would feel like. _ She held her stare a moment longer before removing her wand from behind her ear and handing it, hilt first, to my father. For the strangest moment I thought the animal head carved into its base was a panther--but that was impossible, right? Father accepted her wand, then stepped back to allow her into our home. 

I released the breath I’d been holding onto in case things turned messy. She nodded as though in agreement and stepped inside, following my father up the grand staircase while I brought up the rear. He led us into his study, stopping me with his hand on my chest before I could enter. 

“I believe you owe me a picture and a few documents.” He said in an undertone, before allowing me in.  _ Oh so you DID get my letter.  _ I entered and took a seat, while my father assumed his armchair behind his desk. Julianne remained standing, her arms crossed and her eyes like fire. 

“What did you want to know?” my father began.

She shook her head. “It’s not what I  _ want _ , it’s what needs to be said.” She then rolled her eyes at the impatiently confused look my father gave her. She reached out with her foot and nudged me, “Go on. Tell him.”

Oh great. Now I could be placed under scrutiny. My favorite thing. 

Clearing my throat, I met Father’s gaze and said, “I want to know what happened to Mom.”

I’d never seen him lose his temper, or exert high levels of emotion, but I’d learned to notice the tiny things. Things like the subtle clench of his jaw or fist--the latter making his knuckles turn alabaster; things like when his eyes narrowed beneath his eyebrows, or when the bridge of his nose crinkled ever so slightly...and for a moment, I saw all of these things. 

“Why now?” he asked softly, though the question was almost a hiss. “Who is this girl who dares plant these ideas in your mind?”

“Father, I’ve always wanted to know, I only lacked the courage to breach the subject before now, that’s all.” I swallowed before continuing. “I feel like something’s missing from my life, and knowing what happened to her will help-”

“I promise you, it won’t.” Father said curtly, turning a hard gaze on Julianne. “Is that what you told him?”

She shook her head. “I only pointed out to him that his head was full of fake memories, put there to cover up the memory modification that happened to him during his development years.” Raising both of her eyebrows she added, “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

Father’s right eye twitched. “Get out of my head.” 

“I haven’t touched your head. Only to know how to get here, I swear. You keep your memories, I don’t want them. But this boy deserves whatever truth has been denied him all these years.” she pointed at me like my own father needed reminding who his son was. 

“You told me you wanted to have a word about my  _ sons _ . How could you know if you didn’t look inside my-” Father broke off and glanced at me. “-of course. But how  _ dare  _ you come to my home, approach my son and stir up all this unpleasantness? Everything I have done was for my family, to keep them safe, and you have no right to march in here and tear everything apart!” 

I shrank in my chair as he raised his voice, and it wasn’t even directed at me. For her part, Julianne stood her ground boldly, ( _ or stupidly _ ) and gave me the impression that she’d been shouted at quite a bit back her in her own time. 

Once my father had his say, she replied, “You speak of unpleasantries, sir, and yet there would have been no need for any interference had you done the right thing to begin with. I promised your son that he would have his true memories restored. He expected me to go behind your back and grant them in secret, but I hoped you were a good man; one who wouldn’t act like a caged and cornered animal when confronted. I see that was short-sighted on my part; but I’ve always had fanciful ideas of the inherent good people possess. If you won’t reveal the truth, I’ll do it myself, and he will always resent you. I’ll ask you one more time to tell your beloved son the truth…” she trailed off, her face as neutral as I’d ever seen it, but the implications of her words hung heavily in the air. 

I wanted to speak but my tongue refused to form words as I watched my father wrestle with his conscious. I was certain I’d sprout my first grey hairs before he finally answered. I was off by about forty years. 

“If I must address the past, I should like to make one thing perfectly clear: what happened to my wife has nothing to do with your memory.” Father met my gaze, trying to show that he only cared about me in this instance, not the American who had stormed into our lives. “I’ll say it again—everything I’ve done was to protect my family, to keep you safe...and I know that speaking now will only destroy that.” He collected himself before saying, “Son, I want your word that you’ll find the strength to forgive me...perhaps not immediately, but in the end.”

The amount of fear and sincerity in his entire being was so overwhelming, it was all I could do to agree without falling apart. I was about to learn about my mother, and the other Pollux, hopefully. I was grateful for Julianne suddenly, as she’d essentially stepped in as a kind of emotional referee. She was the Madam Hooch of our Quidditch match. 

“Ms. Kowalski, I recommend you take a seat, there is no simple answer to be found here.” That was Father’s way of inviting her to stay. I think under his injured pride he also needed her presence—as a motivation to explain his side before she decided to take away his chance. Distantly, I recognized that if I hadn’t let her hide in the most impenetrable part of the castle I’d have all the answers by now and we’d have avoided all this. 

My father began by summoning the photograph and certificates I’d stolen, laying them out on his desk and tapping them with his wand. The image of my mother and the other baby rose up out of the picture until a silvery blue imitation of them stood about six inches high on the mahogany. “This was taken a year after my first son’s birth, early in 1959. My wife Sylvia was orphaned at a young age and never knew her parents names or where she’d come from. Her magical ability was unmatched, and I knew she had to be a pureblood. My parents did not bless our union, but much like my niece Andromeda and her choices, no one stopped us. I loved her so much that it didn’t matter to me if the rumors were true and she was muggleborn…”

Not that it mattered much, but this revelation helped me to understand why my father would still reach out to Andromeda and her husband (behind Walburga and Cygnus’s backs of course.) He’d send them gold semi-annually in small amounts, though the deposits had increased after their daughter was born. I’d actually held her, once, before she burped up her breakfast.

“We named Pollux Alphard in some attempt to salvage the distance between my parents, and I truly believed it worked...but on his fifth birthday…” Father sighed, apparently steadying himself for the next part of this story. “The world is divided by more than the eye can see...muggles and wizards, of course, but there are those who grasp the concept of purity and choke others with it. People like that believe that someone like me, from the highest standard of wizarding blood shouldn’t have risked contamination on a foolish thing called love...and so in their own, twisted way...they decided to give me a second chance.”

That sent chills through me, though it was a warm June evening. I glanced at Julianne for a moment, and it looked like she was ahead of the story. Her eyelids shut tight, she sat on the edge of her chair with her hands clenched on her knees. Even if she wasn’t reading Father’s mind, she might have adopted the position in preparation for what he was about to say. 

“I worked away from home--not that I required a job or active income; my inheritance was vast enough for my little family, but Sylvia insisted it was good for me to keep busy...and while she was right about that, to this day I wish I hadn’t listened to her...because at least then I could have been there…” he took a shaky breath and continued. “I returned home at the usual time, found our front door hanging from its hinges, and the house was quiet, except for a soul-wrenching moan coming from my son’s room. Some evil group raided the house in broad-daylight, their faces masked, but their intentions plain...I found my wife holding our son’s body, though his life had long-since ended. On the wall, these blood terrorists had inscribed on the ceiling the words ‘ _ sang sale _ ’ which, translated from French, means ‘dirty blood’. Sylvia was on the brink when I discovered and revived her--the terrorists had left her for dead as they had our son... the suffering she felt thereafter could not be undone. She felt as if her heart had been ripped from her chest and crushed. Pollux Alphard’s death took a toll on her I couldn’t have predicted...and was helpless to stop. She tried to leave me more than once but at the end of the day she’d always come back home.”

He paused, his eyes catching mine once more. “And that...that was when she found you.”

The phrase ‘having the rug pulled out from under your feet’ was too casual. Try the literal definition of ‘your life is a lie’. He’d just described how his wife’s heart had been crushed: mine seemed to be missing. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t even move or possibly blink. Apparently oblivious to my identity crisis, my father kept talking.

“She said she spotted you wandering around Diagon Alley. She took your hand and walked with you for hours, trying to find your parents, but nobody knew who you were. She was told to take you to the Ministry, where they would try to find you a home, but she wouldn’t. I suppose the memories of her own childhood, and the fact that you were as old as Pollux would have been contributed to her bringing you home.”

“Wait-” Julianne cleared her throat, brown eyes wide. “-do you mean to say that he’s-”

“I’M ADOPTED!?!” I rose from my seat so abruptly that it toppled over behind me. 

“Please let me finish,” the man behind the desk begged. He’d gotten to his feet as well, his hands raised in placation or surrender, I couldn’t really tell; I didn’t really care. “I need you to understand--”

I refused to let him finish. I turned my back on him, on Julianne, and ran out of the office. 

 

* * *

 

_ Plot twist, _ she thought to herself, turning to meet Mr. Black’s eyes, full of sorrow for his wife and son, but they held a fair amount of rage as well.  _ That’s for me.  _ Lian exhaled slowly, mentally preparing for the oncoming storm. (She was all too aware that without her wand or the Blood-turner, she was left with only one viable option for self-defense, but she prayed it wouldn’t come to that.)  _ I’ve been here long enough; I need to go home but I can’t until I set things straight here. He has to know… _

“Who are you?” Mr. Black demanded. “What does it matter to you that Pollux knows the truth? I have cared for him like he was my blood! He  _ is _ my blood!”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” said Lian sincerely. “...Why did you name him Pollux, when your deceased son was named that?”

“Wizarding adoption isn’t common, most certainly not among pureblood families. I feared the same fate that befell my first son would follow him if there was any question to his ancestry...I claimed him, gave him my father’s name to protect him, and moved us to this place, where the wards-” he looked at her doubtfully. “-well, they  _ used  _ to be impenetrable. Clearly an update is in order.”

“And your wife?” Lian asked hesitantly. “She passed away?”

“She contracted an illness and died in my arms not long after. She made me swear that I would look after the little orphan who’d brought so much light into her eyes after our child’s death...I tried to find his true family, but after two years searching, I had to focus on his well-being. Rather than allowing the shadows of the past haunt his every step, I modified his memories so that we could both have a fresh start...and that brings us up to you.” He finished, glaring at her. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t make you forget, along with my son who will never forgive me?”

Lian forced herself to remain calm. If this man was half as observant as his adopted son, the slightest tremor would be her undoing. “My name is Julianne Queenie Kowalski. I will be born on June 18th, 1979, in Manhattan, New York.” She allowed that to register in Mr. Black’s mind before she continued. “I owe my life to your son several times over...but not as he is now...as he will be. I think I was meant to come back to instigate this internal discovery.” She swallowed. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry for the pain I have caused by forcing this upon you both...but I believe in my soul that there’s a greater purpose at stake.”

Mr. Black sighed heavily, his dark grey eyes drifting to his office door. “Even if I believed you...I don’t think there ever was a way he could peacefully learn the truth…”

“Perhaps not,” Lian amended. “But let me talk to him...I’ve got a knack for putting things into perspective.”

Mr. Black dismissed her like she wasn’t his problem: which technically she wasn’t. Still, they’d have to meet again for when she wanted to recollect her wand. She bowed herself out of the office, glanced around the deserted corridor, and decided to try a few doors. 

_ I mean, how big could this place be? _

After three flights of stairs, as many floors and what felt like hundreds of empty room's; it became apparent that ‘this place’ could be infinite.

She was three seconds from transforming and straight up sniffing him out when she nearly tripped over a house-elf. 

“What has you done to my master!” the she-elf demanded, holding up two bony fists and hopping around Lian’s feet. “You is not welcome! You is not welcome!” 

“Right,”  _ House-elves. _ “Where is your master now?”

“Locked safely in his rooms! Kipsy won’t let you hurt him anymore!”

“What if I unlocked the door? It’s the third one on the fifth floor, right?” Lian asked, taking a stab in the dark.

“Master is on the fourth-” the house-elf Kipsy paused and clapped her hands over her mouth. Lian was already running.

“Thanks!”  _ Silly little house-elves. _

She supposed the correct door was the big oak that refused to let her within three feet of it. Every step forward only pushed her three steps back, and without her wand she was incapable of breaking the charm on it. She wondered if the spell was on all doors when they were locked or if Lux had specifically requested this arrangement.  _ Probably the former. This estate was built by the kind of people who wouldn’t want intruders or eavesdroppers.  _

Raising her voice, she said, “Lux! It’s only me...let me talk to you!”

No reply was made, or even a hint of a sound beyond the door. That was probably part of the charm. Lian could picture Lux perfectly, though his room was a bit fuzzy in her mind’s eye--she imagined it wasn’t that different than the room she and Jake had slept in two Christmas’ ago...21 years in the future. If her parents had told her that they’d found her as a child, wandering some back alley of New York City, she’d have hid in her room, cranked AC DC on the radio and sat directly in front of her door to prevent anyone walking in after her. Sans the music, she pictured Lux in a similar position. 

“Come on, man, I don’t have my wand on me or I’d pull something crazy to reach-” she broke off, vividly remembering how her wand had a knack of returning to her whether she asked for it or not.  _ Mind of its own, that one _ . Daring to believe it, Lian reached into her sock, where low and behold--she heard Professor Wolfe’s words in her heart as she withdrew her wand, possibly the only thing in existence that was more stubborn than herself. ‘ _ Pinewood, 14 ½ inches, Thunderbird feather core, reasonably supple, yet very stubborn. If this wand chooses you, you will have a very interesting career as a witch _ .’ 

_ You got that right.  _ “Lux, if you’re by the door, I’d recommend moving!” Lian raised her wand, mentally gathering a list of spells that could be effective in this situation, but before she could fire off one shot: the oak door swung outward, revealing Lux R Black standing there, his silver eyes slightly bloodshot. He grabbed her left wrist and pulled her into the room, before slamming the door shut behind them. 

Stumbling to catch her balance before she landed flat on her face, Lian managed to pivot, her wand still pointed at the distraught teenage boy. He raised a solitary eyebrow at her and she sheepishly stowed it back where she’d found it. “Sorry. Habit.”

Opening her mouth to give him some form of comfort, she was beaten by his sudden demand. “Break the charm, now!” 

Lian blinked. “The one on your door, or…”

“The memory charm that hypocrite put on me! Break it now!”

_ Ooh right. Riiiiiight. About that... _ She shook her head as she warned, “I told you before, doing it all at once could do you more harm than good-”

“Now!”

“You could die!” she yelled.  _ And that would really mess up everything.  _

He gave a hollow laugh. “I would rather die knowing who I am than live like this! You don’t understand, Julianne, my life wasn’t perfect but at least I thought it was mine. When you said there was something wrong I figured it was just missing what happened to my mother: come to find out that THAT MAN ISN’T EVEN MY FATHER. I HAVE NO PLACE HERE. My real parents? Apparently they abandoned me, I wasn’t important enough to go to a home that would look after me, they just left me to DIE!”

_ Silencio! _ Lian whipped her wand out again, rolling her eyes. “Calm down, Drama Queen. I’ve had enough talk of death for this chapter of life: haven’t you? All your father said--don’t mouth that at me,  smartass , he raised you for eleven years, that’s definitely father status, whatever his relation to you--all he said was that you were a lost boy. Maybe you ran away, maybe it was an accident, it wasn’t like you were found starving and fading away under a bridge.”

Lux continued to talk, silently furious as he was, and it wasn’t long before he started throwing random objects in all directions. Lian deflected a chair, a lamp, several books and a cat before she placed the body-bind spell on him. “You’re acting like a child with a bad temper. You honestly think you’re justified? Did the little orphan boy get taken in by the wealthiest widower in all existence?”  _ Uh oh, this is getting personal. _ “You think you know pain and suffering? You know nothing…” She gulped down the lump in her throat, the wetness in her eyes, having come to a decision. He should be grateful, not resentful. He should be back in his father’s office, expressing his thanks for everything Alphard had done to keep him alive and safe. Instead he was here, throwing a fit like it was the end of the world.  _ At least you were found by someone good! At least you were looked after and remembered! The same can’t be said for Ollie... _ “You want the truth? I’ll give you the truth. But don’t say I didn’t warn you of the consequences!”

She knelt at his head, facing his toes. Threading her hands through his long, dark hair until her ring and middle fingers (flesh and metal) rested against his temples. His silvery eyes followed her face, filled with confusion beneath the fury, not understanding her emotional reaction. 

“Just so we’re clear,” she whispered through gritted teeth. “This is going to hurt. If you weren’t under a spell, you’d thrash about and probably ruin everything. If you’d been a grown up, I’m sure I could have found a better way…”  _ As it is...the faster I fix you, the faster I can return to my family...friends...and ally… _ The silver eyes widened as she thought, and Lian grimaced, noticing this. “You heard me, didn’t you? I guess that’s a good sign, it means I’m in position. Blink twice if you want to back out...No? Alrighty then.”

Lian closed her eyes and breathed deeply, channelling her every strength into the boy’s mind, at the abnormal parts that never belonged there.  _ Legilimens! _


	13. Her Accent

_ Julianne Queenie Kowalski.  _

_ That’s a mouthful. Do you have a nickname? _

_...Lian...call me Lian.  _

I opened my eyes and was almost blinded by how much nothing I saw. It was as if I was standing in a room with white walls, ceiling and floor, and I had no way of telling how tall or wide any of it could be. 

The longer I stared at the white room, the louder the echoing voices became. Eventually I began to imagine faces to go with each of them. 

A girl with raised eyebrows and a ponytail:  _ Wait,  _ you’re  _ related to Professor Kowalski?? I LOVE her class!  _

A woman with waist-length hair and a willowy frame:  _ You and Jacob need to walk your little sister to school.  _

A boy with white teeth and dark chocolate eyes:  _ Hold up, you want to build a broomstick? Are you for real?  _

A thickset young man with a crooked nose:  _ Quodpot is about teamwork, Kowalski! No more solo plays, or you’re off the team!  _

A slip of a girl with a short haircut and brilliantly green eyes:  _ Oh it’s nothing to worry about—Quince has a bit of a crush on you, that’s all. I caught him and Anders arguing yesterday and overheard that right before they caught sight of me.  _

I blinked and suddenly I was standing beside a younger version of Julianne: I’d guess she was about twelve years old, speaking to the exact girl I’d pictured. They were wearing Muggle clothes, but were obviously on a school campus of some sort. I didn’t think America had any castles. 

Sharing a package of licorice wands, the girls sat on a wooden balcony with their legs dangling through the banister, and when I peered over the side I saw a room with a golden Celtic symbol set into the floor. There were four wooden statues of these creatures I’d never seen or heard of before. 

_ Does he now? _ Young Julianne spoke up, bringing my attention to her.  _ That explains quite a lot, actually.  _

_ Are you going to call him out on it? _ Her friend, whoever she was, sounded eager. Young Julianne squinted and shook her head.  _ Why not? _

_ What difference does it make? We’re only thirteen!  _

_ Do you like him back? _

Young Julianne snorted in an unladylike fashion.  _ No. No. No. no. No. Not even a little bit, no.  _

Her friend seemed unconvinced.  _ I bet you’d be singing a different tune if you’d come into our House.  _

Julianne adopted a lofty expression.  _ Oh Vera, you know I’m too individual to be in Wampus.  _

Before my eyes the scene faded until I was again in the ivory room. But I wasn’t alone: in the center sat the Julianne I knew. ( _ Well, sort of.)  _ With her legs criss crossed, her hands resting with her palms facing up—she was the very picture of serenity. 

_ Hey, _ I stepped up to her, wanting her to open her eyes.  _ What is this place? _

Open her eyes she did, and she looked quite startled to see me.  _ You...how are you doing this? _

_ That’s my line. _

She shook her head.  _ No, I mean, how are you here? I’m in your mind right now, trying to remove the enchantment over your memories, but what are you doing in mine? _

I glanced around the seemingly empty room before meeting her eyes again.  _ This is your mind? _

She tilted her head impishly to one side.  _ What did you expect? _

I shrugged, taking a knee before her.  _ I don’t know, something a bit more...colorful...and loud. This setting is too dull to belong to you. _

Julianne grinned, straightening her posture.  _ I’ll take that as a compliment.  _

_ How are you in my mind if you’re right here? _

She held up her right arm--and while at first I was confused, I realized that her right arm wasn’t metal anymore, but flesh.  _ I’m not. Physically, you and I are in your room, you’re under the body-bind jinx and I’m kneeling beside you while I work. This right here… _ She gestured around at the white walls.  _ This is what anyone gets when they try to see my emotions and memories. But what I don’t understand is what your subconscious is doing here...unless… _

I clicked my fingers impatiently.  _ Unless what? _ I wasn’t sure I could take anymore surprises after the evenings events.

Julianne sighed.  _ Well...the only people really capable of this kind of interaction are those with abilities like mine...which means you’re probably a Legilimens.  _

I wanted to laugh at her joke, which this clearly had to be, but no sound came out of my mouth.  _ You’re not serious, are you? _

_ If you are a Legilimens, you’re not a very good one--I couldn’t tell before now, and usually it’s one of those qualities you notice right away.  _ Julianne continued, ignoring me.  _ Maybe it was dormant before but it’s shaking loose because I’m breaking down the first barrier… _

_ The first wha- _ Suddenly there was a loud POP in my ears followed by a kind of ringing that only grew louder the longer I listened. I opened my mouth to scream but again my voice failed to make any noise.  _ OW YOU- _

_ I know, I know, but remember I told you this would hurt. It’s only going to get worse, are you sure you want me to take them all dow-- _

Her voice cut out abruptly, as did her whole person. Suddenly I was kneeling in a messy bedroom with a bunk bed, where younger Julianne had just entered to speak to the little girl fidgeting with her shoelaces on the lower bunk.  _ “Hey what’s wrong? We have to leave in a few minutes.” _

_ “I don’t wanna go.”  _ the little girl mumbled.  _ “I wanna stay with you and JJ.” _

Younger Julianne moved towards the closet, and stepped inside to change her clothes, speaking all the while. I averted my eyes, keeping them trained on the other one.  _ “I know. I didn’t want to go to No-Maj school either when mom made me go. But look at it this way, in just two years, your magic’ll turn up, and you’ll never have to go to No-Maj school again. Now--” _ she emerged from the closet, fully dressed in a t-shirt with the name ‘Led Zepplin’ emblazoned across it, complete with a pair of red trainers and shorts. She reached down and began to tie the other girl’s shoelaces for her. “-- _ do you remember the rules about going to No-Maj school?” _

The younger girl squinted as she thought.  _ “It’s called Kindergarten. Don’t get upset with anyone in case you conjure accidental and premature magic. And don’t tell anyone about witches and wizards.” _

_ “Good.” _ Julianne nodded, moving on to the other shoe.  _ “What else? _ ” As the scene unfolded, I realized vaguely that this wasn’t a hallucination. If I was truly inside Julianne’s mind, then it would seem fit that I would catch glimpses of her memories. The younger girl would have to be a sister or cousin…

_ “I have two older siblings who are homeschooled; they’re very advanced. _ ” I grinned despite myself: the little girl recited the last part in a dull monotone and it wasn’t quite convincing.  _ “My mom works in government and my dad is a baker on Riv...river…” _

_ “Rivington street, good, continue,” _ Julianne urged, taking the girls’ hand leading her out of the room.  _ “Don’t forget your backpack.” _

_ “My favorite color is pink, and my favorite animal is a demiguise-” _

_ “Whoa, whoa,” _ Julianne held up a hand. “ _ No-Maj’s don’t have demiguises. What’s your alternative?” _

The little girl gave a big sigh.  _ “Dog.” _

_ “Atta girl!”  _ Julianne patted her on the back.  _ “Jacob! We’re leaving without you!” _

_ “I’m coming!” _

I saw a blur of another kid zoom past them on the banister, and then this memory faded as well until I was back in the room of never-ending white. Present-Julianne was waiting for me, pulling me up on my feet and dusting off my sleeve.  _ Are you okay? _

_ What just happened? _

_ I broke the first barrier, and I think my Occlumens took the brunt of it.  _

_ Your what? Actually, nevermind I’ll figure it out later.  _ There was almost too much information being thrown my way, and this was just my subconscious!  _ What’s the name of your little sister? _

_ You saw her? Wait, how many of my memories have you seen?? _ She didn’t sound angry--in fact she sounded scared.

_ Only two. _

_TWO?_ _But I’ve only started--wait if I lift the memory charms on you, and you go insane--will this bond take me down to crazytown with you?_

I wrinkled my brow in confusion at her phrasing.  _ Bond? _

_ Still, it’s too risky to stop now--I’m already _ \--the throbbing in my forehead returned and the agonizing ringing. I clamped both hands over my ears though there was no point as the invasive noise came from within my person. I stared down at Julianne, who was gazing up at me with wide brown eyes, until she vanished again. 

To be replaced once more by a younger version of herself. This one was sun-tanned, wore dark glasses while her fair hair was tied into two french plaits. She was not alone either. While the room had transformed into a crowded beach complete with random people half-dressed in the background, the radius around younger Julianne was filled by four boys and two girls. A multi-colored umbrella shielded them from what had to be a scorching sun--the kind you’d be hard pressed to find in my neighborhood. I recognized the little girl from the earlier memory, and the girl with short hair from the one before that: Julianne’s little sister and friend. The boys held no classification in my mind whatsoever. One of them was dark-skinned, and had an easy-going manner about him, while the boy on his left was olive-skinned, had dark hair and had his face buried in a book. Not even a fun one, by the looks of it. The other two boys were building an altogether too intricate castle out of sand. 

“ _ Hey guys,”  _ younger Julianne piped up glancing around at the sun-dried Muggles. “ _ Maybe don’t build a drawbridge that can raise itself this time, okay? Mom’s still in trouble from last week. _ ”

“ _ She didn’t get an inquiry over our magnificent drawbridge, it was because of your self-balancing, wave-conjuring surfboard! _ ” The boy with bright blue eyes said defensively as he topped off another flawless turret. 

Young Julianne sniffed and waved her younger sister over. “ _ I don’t know what you’re insinuating; I’m a natural surfer. Sera, you’ve got to put on more sunscreen or you’ll shed skin faster than a snake.” _

Her sister pouted as she took the bottle of lotion. “ _ I’m never going to get a tan with this stuff all over me!” _

“ _ Don’t be so dramatic, _ ” The girl with short hair said encouragingly. “ _ People who have sun-tanned skin live shorter lives. _ ”

Julianne stuck her tongue out at her, but didn’t argue. The boy with dark skin was waxing his own board as he cleared his throat, holding up his index finger. “ _ Hold up, you mean to tell me that when we held our contest last week that you cheated??” _

_ “No, of course not!”  _ Julianne insisted, whilst applying liberal amounts of sunscreen to her sisters back and shoulders. In an undertone she added. “ _ The way he surfs I didn’t have to…” _

Her little sister snorted loudly. The shorthaired friend lowered her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose. “ _ Hey Lian, I see catapults,” _ she nodded over at the boys with the sandcastle, where I spotted sand crabs loading broken shells and small pebbles into sand-crafted, medieval launching devices. 

“ _ Jake! Jack!” _ Julianne barked, but too late. The crabs fired the first volley into the backwash, where it narrowly missed a few toddlers splashing around. The boys cheered for their short-lived success, before Julianne took her friends surfboard and crushed the sandcastle before another unnatural incident could follow. 

“ _ Jules!!” _ The boy with bright blue eyes yelled, grabbing her by the arm and shoving her into the water in anger. Her dark glasses fell off her face but she didn’t seem to care. Standing up slowly, half-soaked, she picked up the boy I assumed to be another member of her family (I mean, I would do something like this to Sirius but never Remus) and ran into the waves with him still kicking and screaming. They were followed by the rest of the group, the ruined sand castle abandoned along with their towels and belongings under the big umbrella. I watched their silhouettes thrashing, jumping and diving in and out of the water, their shrieks of laughter lost on the summer breeze…

Until I was back in the room of white, Julianne’s “mind”, staring back at her subconscious. 

_ Well. Apparently I still need to work on my Occlumency.  _ She shook her head at me, before she began to pace.  _ At least you’re not seeing anything too damaging, right? You just saw me with my friends at the beach, right? _

_ Yeah,  _ I nodded once.  _ You’re like the mom of the group.  _

She turned on her heel, index finger raised as she searched for an argument against me. Finding none, she turned her back and continued to pace.  _ Why are you seeing MY memories, though? If I’m cleaning up your enchanted mind, shouldn’t you remember stuff now? It’s not like...well I mean I’m seeing what you’ve forgotten. Maybe it’s a kind of trade off—but the last time I experienced something like this it was with Babcia… _

_ Gesundheit.  _

_ Oh shut up, here’s another one.  _

_ Already?  _ I clenched up, anticipating a migraine of the worst kind. 

_ I’m getting the pattern down faster now.  _ I wasn’t sure what to make of that statement. Fortunately I didn’t have to: another second and I was silently screaming in agony. 

This time I thought I hadn’t left the room—but then I saw the two big guys and knew it must have been so. One of them was short, had grey hair and a salted mustache, while the other was taller, broader in the shoulders and clean-shaven. He had bright blue eyes, while the older man had the darkest brown. They were standing in a quaint kitchen, wearing aprons with their shirt sleeves rolled up to their elbows. Between them was a wide counter, where they each stirred a huge bowl of dough. Standing beside me was young Julianne, the boy she’d thrown into the water in the last memory, and the boy with the surfboard. 

“ _ Julianne, sweetie, _ ” said the old man. “ _ Check the oven—the babka’s ought to be done.” _

“ _ Yes, Dziadek! _ ” She chimed, stepping around the taller man and approaching the large oven in the corner. 

“ _ What’d she call him?”  _ the friend asked quietly. 

“ _ It means ‘grandpa’ in Polish,”  _ the other boy replied. Based on the last memory, he was either Jack or Jake. 

“ _ I never liked the title of grandpa,” _ the old man said cheerily. “ _ Makes me sound old and frail. And kid, I think you’ll find that is not the case here!” _ He set down his mixing bowl and flexed his thick arms impressively. “ _ These are a working mans arms!” _

_ “A working man with a slow metabolism,”  _ the younger man added, nodding at D-ja-whatever’s girth. 

“ _ Don’t mock the genes, son; they’ll turn their backs on you too.”  _ The old man winked as he began to tear the dough apart and shape them. “ _ And I’ll be there to help you count your chins, while you tell Jake off for doing exactly what you did to me.”  _

_ “Done!” _ Julianne cried, balancing a tray of little sponge cakes aloft. “ _ Do you want to start working on your chins now, Daddy?” _

Her father wiped his hands on a rag before throwing it over his shoulder. “ _ I think I’ll pass for now. Your mother likes my lonely chin, and I’m inclined to keep it that way.” _

“ _ She knows it’s inevitable,” _ the old man said in a stage-whisper, before speaking to Julianne in a rush. “ _ Those look perfect, sweetheart!” _

“ _ Dad, if I started working on my chins with you, would you feel better?”  _ Julianne’s brother asked, failing to keep a straight face, while the friend turned his head and bit his entire bottom lip. 

“ _ I’m going to check the store room—we almost ran out of flour yesterday,”  _ the father said in an authoritative way, hoping to end the subject. 

But as he left the kitchen, he clearly had failed. The son grabbed one of the babka’s and chased after him. “ _ Wait! You forgot your chin! _ ” 

The memory faded and released me back into the plain white room. Julianne’s subconscious was lying flat on the neverending floor, her long hair fanned out beneath her, her left arm covering her eyes. 

I stepped over her, nudging her side with my foot.  _ Well? _

She twitched, but otherwise made no effort to get up.  _ Just one more.  _

_ Pardon the crude observation, but it appears that the process is hurting you more than me… _

_ It’ll come around. _ She grimaced, shaking her head slowly.  _ And I don’t envy you for when it does.  _

_ Still think I’m gonna die? _

_ Maybe...but I’ve faced death a few times...it’s not so bad. ...You ready? _

I shrugged.  _ As I’ll ever be.  _

Julianne nodded once, before she kicked herself up to her feet in a semi-impressive, martial-art type motion. She placed her right hand over my heart, and the moment we connected I felt like everything snapped. My mind, my heart, my very soul...and of course, there was that incessant ringing in my ears. It was enough to make me wish I was deaf. 

_ See you on the other side… _

Someone was being hushed, while they whimpered in distress, and for a horrible moment I thought I was going to see Julianne’s birth—but a moment later the memory stabilized. 

I was standing in an operation room of some sort, and lying conscious on the table was Julianne, looking much closer to the age she was now. On her left was a woman with kind eyes and long, wavy hair, while on her right was a blonde woman with intelligent brown eyes, holding a wand and Julianne’s metal arm. 

That’s when it clicked. Julianne was whimpering, her cheeks stained with tears while the woman with dark hair tried to soothe her. Her left arm had its bicep and elbow joint, but the forearm had been severed off—and I recognized the marks of Dark magic there right before the blonde woman said, “ _ Okay kid, I’m gonna need you to be brave just a little bit longer. I need to place this on your arm, okay?”  _ She held up a silver disk-like thing to Julianne’s face, waiting for her to nod. 

“ _ Wha-what is that?” _

_ “It’s going to connect your nerves to your prosthetic; so you can move like you used to,” _ the woman explained simply. “ _ This is going to hurt.” _

_ “Why would you tell me that—AAAGH!” _ Julianne screeched as the device connected to her stubbed arm, latching onto the flesh and bone by magic or whatever kind of sorcery was called for here. 

_ “Because I don’t like it when doctors or healers lie,”  _ the woman explained.  _ “If you’ve ever got to look out for someone’s well being, don’t you dare lie to them.” _

The one with dark hair ran her hand through Julianne’s hair. “ _ My brave girl...it’s almost over with.” _

Julianne shook her head. “ _ Just get on with it. I take it, just—AAAAAAAAGH!” _ She wailed as her body convulsed, almost rejecting the new metal attachment. “ _ WHY! Why does it hurt so much?!” _

The woman I assumed was her mother answered that one. “ _ Honey, it's because you were attacked by Dark magic...if you’d been in a car accident or something, magic could fix you right up, good as new…but whatever evil curse that woman used on you...it prevents healing spells from having any effect at all.” _

The blonde woman nodded at this, while making the final adjustments on the silver arm. “ _ The fact that you turned to Alchemy as your solution was inspired, but the lingering effects of the spell that hurt you are fighting. It doesn’t want you to recover or come back stronger. You have to push back, you cannot let this injury define or weaken you.” _

For the first time in this memory, I saw a hint of a smile on Julianne’s face, but not on her mouth: in her eyes.  _ “I think I can do that.” _

A loud CLAP sounded in my ears, and instead of returning to Julianne’s white room, I felt something grip the back of my trousers and jerk me upwards. Away from the operating room, away from the nice, motherly women and a bittersweet memory that would never belong to me. Up into a black cloud that could only be my mind...and the released memories that could shatter my sanity. 

_ I won’t let that happen.  _ Julianne’s thoughts reached me, even as I receded from her.  _ We’re connected forever now. I’m not going to leave you alone.  _

I wished I’d found as much comfort in that sentiment as she intended to give, but seconds later I was faced with truths I could never have prepared for...and then there was nothing. 

Nothing at all. 

 

* * *

 

I remember. 

I felt so lost when I met Sylvia Black, the woman with sad eyes who bought me an ice cream and held my hand as she helped me look for my family. 

I was content to part ways and keep looking, but she insisted that I wasn’t safe by myself. She would protect me until I was in my own mothers arms again. She took me to large building out in the country, and that was when I met her husband, Alphard. He was a quiet man, much like my dad, and I liked him immediately. 

Sylvia and I spent months, going out to different towns and talking to a wide assortment of people, trying to find someone who recognized me. 

Nobody ever did. 

Alphard would speak to me like I was his equal, not a child. He quizzed me every night about stuff I already knew. I suppose he was trying to see what kind of people my family were. I caught him using his wand outside once and snapped at him—what if somebody saw him using magic? My parents had always told me that nobody outside of family could know about the wizarding world. 

This helped him with the search. Wizarding families who were paranoid about discovery—well that would be everyone, but from what I’d described in my own way, Alphard and Sylvia received the impression that my family had lived around and amongst Muggles. That meant I didn’t belong to any aristocratic wizards, who wouldn’t dare sink so low in society. 

Alphard kept asking what my surname was; but I’d insisted that it was too difficult for me to repeat. 

Sylvia would ask me about my home life. I think they were trying to figure out  _ how  _ magical my family was. 

My mom was really important and very powerful. My dad was very resourceful, and talked a big game about “bringing home the bacon”. I liked bacon—they were the most magical people I knew. 

I had two friends who went everywhere with me. We got in and out of trouble together. 

I was only five years old, but my magic would burst out whenever the questions became too much, whenever I was required to remember something I didn’t want to—glass would break, stone would tremble, and one time I changed the color of my eyes. Only slightly. They used to be pale blue, but I made them silver to match Alphard’s. 

I cried when Sylvia went away. She’d turned into a kind of aunt, and I knew she cared and loved me a lot. 

Maybe I was cursed. I lost my family, then Sylvia, and if I wasn’t careful, I’d lose Alphard. 

I was seven. I’d decided to run away from him. Then maybe he wouldn’t be affected by the curse that plagued everyone else in my family. 

I got caught on the edge of the grounds, by Kipsy the house-elf. She took me back to Alphard, ignoring my pleas to be released. 

He held me in his arms until I calmed down from broken wails to shuddering exhales. He promised I would be safe with him. He wasn’t going to leave me the way everyone else had. He swore I hadn’t been abandoned. 

I didn’t want to feel like that anymore. But I couldn’t forget. I couldn’t forget. I couldn’t...I…

I was running barefoot through a forest. The sunlight dappled through a leafy canopy overhead, and my ears were filled with the purest laughter I’d ever heard. I turned back to look at who was running behind me, and I saw...but, it couldn’t be…

-

I opened my eyes. Lying in my bed, the covers pulled up to my chin, I could see sunlight peeking in from behind the curtains. As my sight adjusted, I registered a weight on my legs. Expecting Alphard, or even Julianne, I was positively flummoxed to see a shaggy black dog and a six-point stag curled up at the foot of my bed. 

I raised a hand to my face to make sure I was still in human form, before I let my fingers cover my eyes as I released a bubble of laughter that rose from some secret pocket within me. The dog popped back into my co—Sirius, while the stag fell off the bed in a panic before transforming back into James. 

“Pollux!” I grimaced as Sirius scrambled over my waist and shoved my hand away to look in my eyes. “You’re awake? You’re alright?? Uncle said you’d collapsed three weeks ago!!”

_ Three weeks?  _ _ Holy— _

“James! Get up you idiot, fetch my uncle!” The door opened and shut as James departed, meanwhile I was still struggling to understand what he was doing at my—at the estate. 

“What are you doing here, Sirius?” I asked in the quiet that fell. 

“The usual story,” he said evasively. 

“Well then, what’s James doing here?”

“I invited him.”

“Were  _ you _ invited?”

“I’m family, I’m  _ always  _ invited,” I picked up on the sarcasm right away. “Given your condition, I don’t think Uncle was in a state of mind to turn us away.”

_ Given what I now know about him I don’t think Alphard would turn anyone away… _

“He said you’d fallen ill after stressing over this years examinations—but you were hardly upset over them—in fact you seemed quite disinterested in school altogether, so,” Sirius raised an eyebrow at me, crossing his arms over his chest. “What’s really going on?”

As I gazed up at him, I heard my voice say, “Why does your mother want to host a gala at the estate?” 

Sirius gave a start. “I—What—How did you know that?”

I couldn’t explain it. I’d simply looked at him and I could picture Walburga and Cygnus pressuring Alphard over some stupid gathering. 

The door opened to reveal a feminine face, one that spotted Sirius and retreated at top speed even as he turned his head. 

_ Well, that answers that question,  _ I thought dryly, though how Julianne had remained at the estate  _ and  _ avoided detection by James and Sirius was beyond my powers of deduction at present. 

“What was that?” 

“Oh, probably Kipsy. You know she doesn’t like strangers.” I said quickly. 

“She knows me,” Sirius frowned. 

“And you’re strange enough.” 

“You still haven’t told me what’s ailing you.”

“When I hear back from my healer I’ll be certain to give you the prognosis.” I said vaguely, grateful when James returned with Alphard at last. He dismissed Sirius and his wild-haired companion before coming to a stop at the foot of the bed. I wondered if he’d seen the stag cuddling the dog earlier, or if he’d been anywhere near me while I’d taken my extended nap. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked hesitantly. He was trying to gage how much I remembered by the measured and vague question.

“Better. Thank you for asking, sir.” That was the first thing I’d told him as a child, after Sylvia had fed me a solid meal. I thought it was appropriate. 

He bowed his head. “I see...in light of your remembered dislike for me, I’ll let you rest--”

“Alphard,” I called him by name, and waited for him to look at me. “I don’t hate you for what you did to me. I understand it...and at the very least, you kept your word, to me and your wife.” I cleared my throat. “That said, you did lie about one thing.”

His expression more open than it had been in a long time, he tilted his head. “Indeed? Enlighten me.”

“When you told me that losing my memories had nothing to do with what happened to Sylvia...but it did. If she hadn’t died so soon after finding me, I wouldn’t have convinced myself that I was a disease or whatever to the people around me, and I wouldn’t have tried to run away from you and Kipsy.”

Alphard chuckled, despite the subject matter. “You were the most inventive child.”

“And ungrateful. It occurs to me that I never thanked you for any of it. Taking me in when you could have very easily thrown me out onto the streets.” I climbed out from under the duvet and (vaguely aware that at some point someone had changed me into my pajamas) I moved to stand in front of him. “Thank you. I don’t think I would’ve made it this far without your kindness...and if we weren’t British, I’d have half a mind to hug you.”

That earned me a smile, but came with a heavy blow. “Yes, about that...you were so young, you probably didn’t realize it but there’s something else you should know…”

 

* * *

 

After lunch with Sirius and James who were none the wiser about the shift between Alphard and myself, I was told by Kipsy that there was a nuisance in the kitchen, and it was my duty as the young Master of the household to save the house-elves. Excusing myself from Sirius and James’ argument over their nicknames (they’d turned down my suggestions of Doeface and Snuffles) I descended into the kitchen to confirm my suspicions.

Apparently, in the three weeks I’d been comatose, Julianne had become quite infamous with the help. Alphard mentioned her insistence that Sirius and James remained unaware of her, and he’d ordered the seven house-elves to keep ‘mum’ as the word. The estate was big enough for her to stay out of sight and mind, but every so often, she’d sneak down here and--

“Miss, please! This is a house-elf’s job! Missus musn’t work like this!” Kipsy’s deputy, Retcher, was wagging a rolling pin at the girl currently hand-washing the dishes. 

I watched the scene for another minute before I dismissed the staff, fearing Julianne’s capabilities more than a bad meal or unwashed sheets later. After each elf vanished with a loud CRACK, I perched upon the counter where there was enough space, watching her wash, dry, and put away dish after dish like a Muggle. 

“Why are you doing it like that?” I asked after a few minutes more. 

“Helps me think,” she said shortly.

“You must’ve driven your own house-elves crazy,” I made the comment intentionally, wanting to draw her out. House-elves were a luxury, and not every wizarding family could afford one. While she seemed tense, I got the impression that she would be more willing to talk now than at any other time, so I wanted to take the chance to open her up a bit...maybe get her to give away who she really was.

“We don’t have a house-elf, not that we couldn’t afford one, but my mother cooks better than anyone, and my father believes in working with your own hands, so my siblings and I were raised on homemade meals and hard work...with the occasional Chinese take-out and pizza,” she amended with a nod of her head. 

_ Jackpot. _ “Where did your mother study cooking?” The next string of vowels and consonants to exit her mouth made me say, “What?”

“Mahoutokoro,” she repeated, only this time she spoke slowly.

“Gesundheit.”

She scrubbed at a particularly stubborn pot as she explained, “It’s the Japanese Wizarding school. She was admitted when she was seven years old and graduated nearly eleven years later.”

“Your mother is Japanese?” I asked doubtfully. What with her sandy blonde hair and round eyes, she didn’t look very Asian to me. 

“Australian. She lost the accent when she moved to America to study at the Salem Witches Institute.”

“Why? What was wrong with her accent?”

“One of the first friends my mother made at school said an off-hand comment about how the only thing she knew about Australia was that it used to be full of criminals, and she learned quickly that a lot of people made that same connection, so it was hard for her to get a job.” She turned to me for a moment, holding the cleaned and dried pot aloft. “Where does this go?”

“Under the stove.”

“Thanks.”

“Your welcome. How could she go to a Japanese school if she wasn’t-”

“Mahoutokoro is one of the only wizarding schools in that part of the world, and it was a lot closer than Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, Durmstrang or Ilvermorny.” She sighed. “My mother and uncle were still young enough to pick up the language the way you or I would pick up a stick.”

“What are their names?”

“Amaya and Anatoly Strother. Well, Amaya Strother-Kowalski.”

“Muggleborn?” Not that it was important.

“Pureblood, if you can believe it. My grandfather was raised in Russia, and he claims he left the mafia by escaping to Australia under an alias. Polyjuice potion didn’t hurt either,” she finished putting the dishes away, grabbed a cloth and began wiping the counter space, not that it needed polishing. It seemed she was truthful in stating that manual labor helped her to think. “He still talks about how they’re hunting him down during the holidays…”

“How old is he?” I was genuinely interested now, in a family I had no business knowing anything about. She must’ve been terribly homesick at that point, otherwise I couldn’t think of why she was bothering to tell me any of it.

“Well into his nineties I should think,” she chuckled.

“Ah.”  In a flash I could picture a withered and wrinkled old man, sharp blue eyes beneath bushy white eyebrows. He was hunched over in a chair, clutching a cane he didn’t really need, but liked to brandish at people when he was feeling hyper. “He sounds like trouble.”   
  


“The worst. My little brother Jake says when he grows up he wants to be Drampa Sergei, chasing kangaroos and baby dragons off his property.”   
“Jake?” I repeated, remembering the name from my visions.   
“Short for Jacob. He was named after our Dziadek.”  
“Huh.” And again, I could see them as though they were right in front of me. A small kid with wide blue eyes and straw colored hair, gazing up at a squat old man with a mustache, his dark brown eyes twinkling with merriment. Both named Jacob. Both… “Are you named for anybody?”  
“Big Mama Julianne and Babcia Queenie. My little sister was technically named after a president of MACUSA back in the 1940s, but my mother claims its a coincidence and she just liked the name.”  
“Her name is?”  
“Seraphina.” I couldn’t imagine what she looked like...all I could see was a little family walking together: a little girl with long, sand colored hair falling in knots down her back; a little boy with wide blue eyes again, waddling towards a raft of ducks on chubby legs; a man and a woman walking arm-in-arm, the woman small in stature, with her dark hair pulled back in a ribbon, her stomach swollen like an enormous balloon. 

Blinking, clearing my throat in an effort to not sound as freaked out as I actually was, I asked, “Anyone else?”  
Julianne visibly hesitated now, before she continued to deep clean the oven in the most peculiar manner. “Well...I had a twin brother...his name was Oliver David...he didn’t like his name very much, mostly because of the musical _Oliver!_ And the fact that I wouldn’t stop singing _Consider Yourself_ at every opportunity.” I felt an itching in my brain as she spoke, like her words had just poked a hornets nest and there was nothing I could do about it. I wanted to ask her to stop talking, but I’d apparently opened a gate because she’d withdrawn from the oven and kept going. “I called him Ollie most of the time, but that didn’t seem to help. Drampa and Big Mama came to visit mom while she was pregnant with Fi...I’d almost forgotten. Drampa was chatting with us, keeping us entertained while Big Mama talked with Mom in the other room. He...he was telling us stories about Russia...I can’t have been paying much attention, Jake had dipped my favorite toy in ranch dressing so you could say I was in distress…” she squinted, trying to remember a specific detail about Drampa, and her twin...both of whom I’d never met. I was certain I’d never met any of these people. And yet...  
“I think he’d run out of topics because he was telling Ollie about his mafia days...about the man who’d saved his life, helping him escape...Ollie thought his name was so cool, he wanted to make it his. For months after he would only answer to it...what was it…”  
The hornet's nest exploded. I clutched at my head, trying to ignore the icy waves that shot through my memories. I could see the old man with the sharp eyes telling me the name. I could see myself, small and mischievous, telling anyone who asked that this would be my name from now on. I could see a small woman, long dark hair and large brown eyes, scolding me for ignoring my given names. _Those are family names! You should feel honored, you ruddy ankle biter!_ __  
“Her accent always comes back when she’s angry.” I muttered aloud.   
“What?” Julianne gazed at me, and when I met her expression, it was not filled with shock or surprise, on the contrary it was almost...expectant. She was daring me to continue, fully aware that I couldn’t take it back.   
“Her Australian accent…” I swallowed. “It came back whenever she was angry. When she was furious she would speak Japanese so she didn’t corrupt...us.”  
She licked her lips, her body stiff as a board. “What was the name?” I shook my head. It wasn’t real. She wasn’t for real--she was just a crazy mind reader who fell into my life and was trying to trick me with happy memories and insane possibilities. Not real. Not real.  
“What was the name, Ollie,” she said through grit teeth. “The name you chose...the name you kept…”  
I could see Sylvia asking for my name. I could see Alphard asking for my name. I realized why my middle name was what it was...  
“...Roman.” I breathed. “I wanted to be called Roman.”  
  



	14. Sacrifices

Lian used a word that was unbefitting an well-educated young lady, but after taking the time to breathe, she tossed her hair and shrugged. “Figures.”

Roman blinked at her behavior, shaking his head. “Wait, you don’t actually believe that we--that you and I--that you’re my--that we’re brother and sister, do you??”

Lian shrugged again. “It’s not that crazy, if you think about it.”

“I’ve thought about it,” he said curtly. “It’s insane.”

“No, it’s really not,” she replied seriously, and then said at top-speed: “What’s crazy is helping a friend learn how to protect their mind from outside manipulation by a dark lord, and then watching as he eventually fails to do just that and marches off to the ministry to save his godfather who is in fact safe at home while his reckless godson falls into the clutches of that same dark lord. That’s a bit crazy. You being my long lost twin, not so much.”

“What?”

“What?” she cleared her throat. “By the way, you can’t repeat most of what I tell you. And I wouldn’t recommend telling anyone that we’re siblings because they’ll probably send you to that Mungo hospital for all eternity.” He blinked in stoic silence at her and she added, “Which they probably don’t. I didn’t see you there last Christmas.”

“Wait,  _ what? _ ”

“I’m rambling. I do that sometimes. You should probably talk now.”

“I don’t really have anything to say.”

“You just found out that you’re not an orphan, but belong to the (in my own biased opinion) greatest family of all time and you have  _ nothing _ to say?” Lian crossed her arms, allowing her every mixed emotion to show on her sleeve. She picked up on his discomfort in four seconds flat. “You might as well say it.”

“Say what?”

“Whatever you’re holding back.” He took a deep breath. And then another. And another. “Dude seriously, I’ve seen grass grow faster.”

“Why are you so irritating?” he snapped.

“It’s part of my charm.”

“There’s no way we’re twins! We look nothing alike!”

Lian graced him with a patient but pitying expression. “I think that’s the weakest argument I’ve heard in a long time. We’re fraternal, obviously.”

“How are you so willing to accept this as truth? How do you know it’s not a weird after effect of the mental link you made?” Roman leaned against the counter for support. “I mean, yes, I have memories of the things and people you’ve spoken of but that was-”

“No, it wasn’t,” Lian interrupted his rational and logical babble before he could convince himself that he was right and she was wrong. “Roman, listen to me, it makes perfect sense, and no sense at the same time. The difference is having an open or closed mind; and guess which one you have?”

“I’m not being close-minded, I’m being practical.” he insisted.

“Tell me what Babcia looks like,” she asked suddenly, an idea striking her.

Without missing a beat, the bedraggled teenage boy replied, “She’s average height for a woman, has short, gray hair and deep blue eyes. She looks frail but is probably still a force to be-” he broke off as he realized what he was doing. “I’m just getting this from you, clearly. They’re not my memories.”

“Oh yes they are. You might be a Legilimens like me, but you’re not an Occlumens like me, which means that I can still see into your emotions and memories but you can’t look into mine unless I let you.” She grinned triumphantly as he rubbed at his temples with both hands. “Headache?”

“Like the devil.”

“Get used to that. Ooh we have  _ so _ much to talk about!” she chuckled and clapped her hands in excitement.

“Don’t you think that this would all be too convenient if it was true?” Roman asked suddenly, staggering his way over to a stool at the bar. “You showing up at my feet and all?” Lian rolled her eyes and bit her tongue.  _ Yes I thought the fight for my life beneath the crumbling Astronomy tower was VERY CONVENIENT.  _ “What was that for?”

“Nothing about the past few months were convenient for me, okay? I did not enjoy twiddling my thumbs like an ape with a nervous tick while Merlin knows what goes on back in my timeline. I’ve never been gone this long—the likelihood of my returning to the exact day I left set sail about two months ago, alright? I was in the middle of a battle with a bunch of escaped convicts! I have no idea if the people I left behind are safe! Look, I realize you’re still a naive little schoolboy with zero plans or ambitions for the future—which is a BIG part of the reason you weren’t placed in Slytherin, FYI—” she put in, coming off a bit more harsh than intended but she had to make her point. “But I don’t have time for your disbelief, I certainly don’t have time for your doubts, and I have zero tolerance for your ignorance! The proof is in the pudding, the truth is right in front of you, and if you waste any more breath on trying to deny any of this, so help me I—”

Roman had jumped to his feet and tried to cover her mouth with his hand, but she slapped it away. “Okay, okay! Just stop yelling at me.”

“Say it.”

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb: you’ll bring dishonor to your Hogwarts House, and all that jazz.” 

Roman coughed. “Fine. I apologize for my insensitivity. I will try to see things your way.”

Lian smirked, and spoke in her most gravelly voice. “ _ Do or do not, there is no try. _ ”

He squinted down at her. “What?”

To which she scoffed in despair. “When you come home I’m glueing you to the couch for a Star Wars marathon. Fi and Jake will sit on you if necessary.” 

Roman took a step away from her. “ _ When _ I...home?” He glanced around at the kitchen as if to say  _ I am home _ . 

Lian felt her eyes widen. She’d always imagined  _ finding _ her twin, she had never dared to hope for their victorious homecoming. How their mom and dad would rejoi—“What, you think I’m just going to leave you here?” 

“But, what about Alphard?” Roman glanced upwards as if he’d inherited x-ray vision along with Legilimens. 

Lian bit down her first reply which would have been something along the lines of  _ What about him? _ “Well...he can come too, if he wants.”  _ Timeline? What timeline? _

“I thought any huge change in the past would negatively affect the future?”

“Technically it wouldn’t make much of a difference since he’s not alive in my time—I mean,” Lian winced, both at her slip up and at the look on Roman’s face. “Oops.”

“He died?! When? How?!” He didn’t say the most likely one aloud though they both heard it through the mental link:  _ Who..? _

“I don’t know the details,” she answered reluctantly. “I just know that he wasn’t there.” 

Roman slammed his fist on the counter in a show of irritation. “That doesn’t mean he’s dead!”

“Yes, but the fortune he left behind was might have…” she recoiled, resisting the urge to shove her fist in her mouth. “I’m shutting up now.” 

“That’ll be the day.” Roman muttered darkly.  _ Now you’re getting the idea. _ “Bottom line, I’m not abandoning Alphard.” 

Instead of protesting, like her mother would, she patted his shoulder and nodded. “Okay. But there’s something you need to know.”

“I get that a lot,” Lian smiled to herself. In the past hour he’d shown less of a stiff and distant manner and closer to the devil-may-care man she’d come to expect. “Shoot.”

“Right, so based on actual experience, you won’t be able to stay here in this time spectrum in a little under four years. I see your befuddlement forming and if you’ll just allow me thirty seconds to explain: I’ve crossed my own timeline and because I already existed in that time, I wasn’t allowed to stay longer than a few minutes at least, an hour at most. Come to think of it, you’ve already experienced this sensation—when I sent you forward to save me on Long Island: the younger You was in that forest, except you’d stayed by mom while I got lost. Your older version couldn’t stay long, and once you’d completed the task, you popped back here.” 

Roman blinked and shook himself. “So...what are you saying?”

“We were born June 18th, 1979. On that day, this version-” she gestured at all of him “-of you will disappear, and probably return to the moment you were taken.” Lian cupped a hand over her mouth as she realized what  _ that _ would mean. “I was right. We have a lot to cover and you should probably take notes—no someone will discover them, bad idea, um—”

“Jules,” Roman snapped her attention to him, using the nickname only her brother was allowed to say. (Now brother _ s. _ ) “Let’s take a walk.” 

“...okay.”

 

* * *

 

“What's the age gap between us and the other two?” He asked as soon as their feet touched the grass. Lian grinned as she imagined Jake and Sera’s reaction to being dubbed ‘the other’ ones. 

“There’s about a five minute gap between you and I—it would’ve been shorter but I got stuck. Anatoly used to joke about how I was using my umbilical cord as a jump rope right before exiting the womb.” She grimaced at that mental image before plunging right along. “Jake was born thirteen months after you and I, and we reigned havoc over him for the next four years until Fi came…” 

A tense silence fell as they walked around the hedge that framed in the vast gardens. Lian spotted Kipsy chasing a gnome with what looked like a squirt bottle and a wooden spoon. 

“I’m...the oldest?” He choked out after they watched the house elf and the gnome disappear behind the ebony fountain. 

“By five minutes, yes,” Lian confirmed with an air of impatience and regret. “Could’ve been shorter but no...I used to have a working theory that I was supposed to be born first but you pushed me out of the way.” 

Roman chuckled once he realized she was being funny. “That doesn’t sound like me.” 

“Perhaps,  but you only know the version of you that was raised in a fancy home with legions of tutors and house-elves at your beck, call and just about every whimsy in between.” Lian was careful to sound lofty and calm; she didn’t want to be sharp with him, else he’d come to fear truth when he heard it. “I can still remember the you that dragged his baby brother under the rug because the baby had a smelly diaper and you couldn’t think of another way to make it stop.” 

Roman brought his eyebrows together, though a smile was starting to spread across his face. “Did I?” 

Lian nodded seriously. “Yup. I also remember when Dziadek suggested we go to the No-Maj daycare. Within ten minutes of playing with the other kids you pulled a fake wand out of your pant-leg—to this day we still don’t know where you found it—threw it across the room and in mid-flight it turned into a singing bass. It landed in the crayon bucket and began to sing in Gobbledygook. The ladies in charge thought it was a tool used to summon a demon and we were never allowed back to that neighborhood.” She patted him on the shoulder while he stared ahead, completely stunned. “Mom scolded you so hard about the importance of keeping Magic a secret, you practically had it carved into your mind. Even at home you’d chastise me or Jake with the strict reminder: ‘not ‘post to tell’!”

He was really smiling now, if a bit sheepishly. “That’s quite the contrast to how I believed myself to be at that age.”

Lian shrugged. “Well, nobody’s perfect. Jake won’t let me live down the time I broke Perry Thompson’s nose.” 

She sensed Roman judging her silently, probably because he’d only ever used words to solve his problems. Sharp and scathing ones, but verbal remarks nonetheless. “What was his offense?”

“He called me ‘Jules’, which is what my brothers, and  _ only my brothers _ call me.” She hesitated, then threw caution to the wind and admitted. “You came up with it, when we were little and you didn’t want to make the effort to say ‘Julianne’. Jake never knew my full name wasn’t Jules until he was seven years old, and by then the nickname was cemented between us. I think it was his way to remember you.” 

“What about our younger sister? Does she know about me?” 

“Only by stories told to her in secret. After you were taken, our parents found it difficult to talk about you casually, but Jake and I would go to the family portrait and talk to you.” Lian sighed as she thought about the nights she and her younger siblings would sit in the hall and talk to Ollie via portrait. He’d remained the same as the day he’d been kidnapped, while Lian’s, Jake’s and Fi’s counterparts grew up around him. The last time Lian had seen it, little Ollie had taken to hiding behind their parents. These particular memories felt a bit too much to reveal to her twin just yet. 

“They never discovered why I was kidnapped, then?” Roman asked, pausing to lean against an oak tree. They’d walked into a pleasant grove on the south side of the estate, where the sunlight filtered through the leafy canopy to make dappled patterns along the grass. It made Lian think of camping upstate. “Or even who?”

She shook her head. “I don’t suppose you remember any details? The smallest thing could be useful.”

He closed his eyes and raised his face towards the sky as he thought, searching his renewed memories. Lian was tempted to find the details for him, but exercised self-control in that regard.  _ I’ll have to give him the crash-course. _

_ The what? _ He peeked at her with one eye.

_ I need to teach you how to use Legilimency properly, that’s all.  _ Lian raised her eyebrows.  _ Remember anything? _

_ I can’t be sure. I remember the park...and mom and dad leaving in a rush. I remember the street and for some reason all I can think about at that point is a bunch of pigeons.  _ He bit his bottom lip as he turned his head to face her, both eyes open but unfocused.  _ I never got a good look at his face. He picked me up and Disapparated and the next thing I knew I was alone in Diagon Alley. _

_ You mean Diagonally,  _ Lian supplied impishly. 

_ What? _

“Nevermind, it’s not important,” she waved her hand dismissively. “So, it sounds like he wasn’t intending to hurt you...just move you. And that’s when you came across Sylvia Black?”

“I guess.”

“And it didn’t occur to you to mention to her that you were from the future?”

“I didn’t realize. I think it struck me as odd when I found a calendar for 1964, but nobody else questioned it so I didn’t either.”

Lian scoffed. “That’s the complete opposite of what I’d have done. I was the chatty one, you just did things without asking, or apologizing. From what I saw of your memories, that trait stayed with you.”

“Hmm...so, you need to teach me what?” Lian rolled her eyes at the not-so-subtle change of the subject.

“Legilimency. You’ve probably used it all along, but without proper instruction and training it’s not as potent as it’s supposed to be.” She plopped down to sit on the grass and motioned for him to follow her. After a long pause he did so.

“How d’you mean?”

Puffing air into her cheeks, she gathered the possibilities before calling them out. “Well, have you ever known something without having to ask, read or hear it? Or maybe you can guess what someone is thinking just by looking at them? Have there been times where you knew exactly what to say to render a person incapable of arguing with you?” 

Roman’s silvery eyes widened as she spoke, and he nodded, wanting her to continue. “I just assumed my intuition was better than most.”

“There are people who are very intuitive, but the difference between Legilimens and intuition is that Legilimens is never wrong. We get it through the Goldstein line-”

“The what?”

“Our Babcia is a Goldstein, and a very powerful Legilimens. Great Aunt Tina used to say that she could get inside your head without even trying, and without you ever knowing.” Lian shook her head. “One day I hope to attain that level, but I’m still a work in progress. One thing I have used my abilities for quite often is to speak and understand languages. I have a friend back at school who only spoke in sign language, and I was the first person in our year she was able to communicate with. Others learned in time, of course, but it was because of her I realized I could use Legilimency to translate, so to speak.” She remembered something from the Hogwarts Express and tapped Roman’s knee. “You’ve already used it for that, by the way.”

He frowned, utterly bemused. “When?”

“On the train home--that girl you like, what’s her name?” Lian grinned wolfishly as Roman’s entire face turned pink. “Mary? She spoke in Doric to you, but you understood her anyway. No one else in that compartment had a clue.”

He shook his head. “That was English. I know she’s got an accent but--”

“I’m telling you, I was right there and at first all I heard was nonsense with a Scottish accent mixed in but I got the gist of it.” Lian felt a bit smug as he shifted in discomfort. “You’ve probably done it for years without realizing it. No wonder.”

“No wonder what?”

Lian’s face was ready to split in two with the width of her smile. “I’ll let you figure that one out. Okay, moving on--language, good. Now, I strongly caution you against diving too deeply into others’ memories because when I did I started to lose habits, traits and thoughts that made me, well, me. There were years where I’d take in too much for my mind to handle, and the result would be anything from fainting to something that resembled a stroke. Bottom-line is, don’t go too far: it’s not fun. With me so far?”

“Yes, but what about Mary-”

“On your own time,” Lian said, half-teasing, half-serious. “Repeat back what you remember.”

“Er...Legilimency can be used for languages and don’t look too deeply into other minds.”

“Good. Five points to Ravenclaw,” she joked.

“Hang on,” Roman squinted at her, recalling the day she escaped from the hospital wing on James’s broom, she could see it as though it were written across his forehead. “Are you really in Slytherin House?”

Straightening her spine and puffing out her chest, Lian said with as much pride and dignity as she could muster, “As a matter of fact I am. Technically I was in Thunderbird House first, but I’ve adopted Slytherin inasmuch as it’s accepted me.”

“You said earlier that I wasn’t in Slytherin because I didn’t have any ambition?”

“Yes.”

“Is that it?”

“Well,” Lian huffed. “I’ve heard from a reliable source that the Sorting Hat takes your choice into account. It may or may not be persuaded, but it hears you. It’s possible that when you were sorted, some part of you--the part of you that was locked away, perhaps--knew that you didn’t belong in Slytherin. I’ve been in there, and I’ve been inside your head. Believe me: the two would not coincide.” 

Roman took a moment to mull over her words before sighing deeply. “Now what?”

She cleared her throat. “I think it might be constructive to have a practical lesson. I’ll open my mind to you, and let you know when you’ve gone ‘too far’, and that way you can have an idea of what not to do in the future--should you ever need to scan somebody.”

“Really?” he asked, his voice full of uncertainty. “I mean, I don’t even know how to do that.”

“Oh it’s easy,” Lian reassured him. “Close your eyes and breathe deeply. I’ll walk you through it.” 

Without checking to see if he’d done as asked, she shut her own eyes and began to take down her protective walls. In her Occlumency lessons with Snape, he’d often chided her to clear her mind, which she’d never been able to do--put it on snooze, perhaps, but never clear it. Her alternative had been to imagine an empty room, which had done the trick, if the last three weeks had been any indication. She pictured the four walls and ceiling of that room falling away, like watching a barn raising in reverse.

“Ready?”

Roman’s reply was mumbled and reluctant. “As I’ll ever be.”

“Picture your five senses: taste, touch, smell, sound and sight...You have removed sight by closing your eyes. There is nothing for you to taste. Close your ears to the surrounding noise and hear only my voice. You’re about to remove your state of mind from your body--there will be nothing for your five senses to do...but there is another sense. One that very few are given...with it, you will be able to reach into my mind...it has many names. The simple title is just the sixth sense...I’ve always referred to it as Truth, because that is what I seek, and that is what I find...if used correctly, you may find your own uses for it, and its own name…”

She waited, and sure enough, Lian could feel his surprisingly cold touch in her mind. When she’d taught Seraphina how to look into minds, her little sister had come at her like a brick wall. Roman’s reach was cautious, but calm, the marks of natural talent written all over it. 

“Tell me what you see.” she whispered, and thought it as well. She felt his answer, more than she heard it. As it was his first time reaching into her mind, the experience was much like being on the end of the spell, rather than the natural touch. Lian enjoyed a great many of her memories flashing across her minds eye as Roman perused them, before he came to a halt at…

_ She was standing in Snape’s office with Theo, they were working on a potion for detention together, and he’d just made a demand for her honesty, after revealing that he’d read Umbridge’s letter. She saw herself select a vial of Veritaserum, willing to give her ally anything...everything, to gain his trust. _

“Who’s this guy?” Roman asked her, a thousand miles away in some tree grove. 

_ She watched as he swallowed a few drops of the potion as well, giving her some amount of admiration and alarm towards the boy, the one she wanted to trust her, while still not technically telling him about her true purpose for going to Hogwarts...she hadn’t been ready to admit that particular truth just yet. She wouldn’t be, not for several months. _

Roman shuffled through her memories, following that vein of thought until he landed upon the summer vacation. 

_ She was sitting on her bedroom floor, much in the same position she was currently, while Draco and Theo sat across from her, imitating her exactly. They’d come to her, instructed by Professor Snape of all people, to learn Occlumency before their sixth year began. They’d decided they didn’t want to be pawns in the coming war, and they wanted to keep the Dark Lord out of their heads. Draco was better at it than Theo, who kept getting distracted.  _

_ They’d discovered the Blood-Turner one evening while her back had been turned, and pestered her about it until she relented. She didn’t really know what it was supposed to do, and hadn’t used it much--it had only been given to her after her surgery. Draco suggested they turn it over once, but she snatched it back from him, cutting her pinky finger on the hourglass’s sharp point in the process. The bronze sand in the silver trinket began to glow, and as Draco and Theo leaned in to watch, her bedroom disappeared with a soft pop. _

_ They were standing in the snow outside of Hogwarts, it was the dead of night under a full moon. They could see their breaths in little clouds as they exhaled. They hardly had time to marvel before they heard someone yelling for help at the top of their lungs. _

_ Without hesitating, Lian had transformed into her animagus, charging through the snow to find a werewolf bearing down on a small boy lying face-down in the snow. She roared, a loud, echoing sound that made the wolf back off, facing her instead… _

Coming to her senses, Lian raised her walls and ejected Roman out of her mind. He collapsed against the trunk of the tree, his chest heaving and forehead drenched in sweat. “That’s what I’d classify as ‘too far’,” Lian explained, trying to settle her heart.

“It was you,” Roman said in a shaky voice. “I thought I was dead...but you were there. You saved me.”

She blinked. “You mean to tell me...the little boy in the snow...that was you?” she then clapped her left hand over her eyes. “Of course it had to be you.”

“Your Blood-turner thing,” he said, “has it ever taken you to any other member of our family or has it just been me?”

“Well…” it was an inspired question, Lian had to admit. She rebuked herself slightly for not having thought of it first. “Now that you mention it...I think it’s just been you…”

“And when I used it, I went directly to you, when you needed me.” Roman wiped his hand over his face and up into his hair. “How did you get it?”

Lian bit the tip of her tongue, not certain if she could tell him just yet. “It was a gift, for my seventeenth birthday.”

She knew he could tell she was withholding specifics intentionally, but he let the matter drop. Instead, he decided to pay her back for her early comments about Mary. “So, who’s Theodore Nott?”

“He’s my ally,” she answered. 

“Your what?” he chuckled at first when he thought she was being facetious. When she didn’t change her expression, he tilted his head to the side. “Seriously? Ally? What does that even mean?”

She didn’t want to talk about it, so she said, “It’s a long story, really, and not worth-”

“I’m not learning another thing from you until you explain what you mean by ‘ally’.” Roman said stubbornly, reminding Lian so much of herself she actually giggled. 

Taking a deep breath before she began, it had been so long since she’d explained it to anyone, she readied herself. Maybe if she talked fast he’d only hear the first degree, like most people,  _ Unlike certain others, namely the loup garou… _

_ The what? _

“Right. When I was at school in America, I’d look around at my friends and watch as they fiddled with their hearts and emotions like every crush would be the last and every date would be an engagement and it made me sick. I was always taught by our mother that there was a proper order to courtship, and it always began with a healthy and true friendship. When wizards and witches marry, its with a magic that seals forever--and if I’m going to be stuck with one person forever then I figured I’d want more of a foundation than (to quote my friend Beck,) ‘ _ I like the way he kisses me _ ’.”

“You think a lot,” he observed under his breath.

“Too much?” she challenged.

“Just enough. I’m not one to talk, I think a lot, as well.”

“Runs in the family,” Lian winked. “So! I wasn’t getting anywhere because boys and girls were turning all weird with puberty on the rise and hormones running wild so I turned to my best friend Jason and made him swear to never ask me on a date, or think about having me as his girlfriend, but only ever being his friend. I told him to think of me as his brother if it would help, and even though he loathes the one he’s already got, I think it helped. I did the same with Matt, Scott, Louis--any boy in my circle of friends who I enjoyed but didn’t want to lose because of emotions gone wild.”

“So you went from having two brothers to a hundred,” said Roman, pointing out the detail that few others recognized when she explained this part. 

“Sixty-three.” He whistled. “So yeah, that worked well. Especially because I didn’t want nor did I have time for a relationship of that caliber.”

“Why not?”

“I…” Lian cleared her throat. She hadn’t expected to mention this part, but it was crucial to her reasonings, and they were already knee-deep. “I believed that in my quest to discover the truth of what happened to you, I would suffer a mortal injury and pass away before I turned eighteen. I wasn’t about to become part of a tragic love story, so I shoved all potential romances to the side to save their hearts as well as temper my own…because I didn’t want to be distracted or discouraged…”

Roman was silent for a long time after this admission. She could sense his awe and discomfort at the idea that she’d pushed away happiness in the goal of tracking him down. Rather than letting him stew in his awkwardness she pushed ahead to answer the mystery behind her allies. 

“And that was all very well and good until fifth year...one of my frenemies-”

“Sorry, what?”

“Friendly enemies,” Lian explained briefly. “He decided that we were ‘made for each other’ and wouldn’t leave me alone--which was extremely annoying because that was our OWL year and I had to achieve Outstandings in each class if I wanted Hogwarts to even consider letting me transfer. Which they did in the end and--”

“Why did you want to go to Hogwarts?” Roman asked abruptly.

Lian blinked. “I was told that if I did, I would receive answers about what happened to my brother.” Shrugging and gesturing at him she added, “And while it only took two years after the fact, I did.”

“But why Hogwarts?”

Lian remembered how she felt back in the Room of Requirement and decided now was a good time to reveal her reasons. “I’d spent the last few years of my life chasing down an impossible goal, expecting to die for it, and never turning back. When I finally got to Hogwarts, I was exposed to new people, new ideas and opinions, and a mess of corruption, from the students to the staff to the government.”

“DADA job’s still jinxed, then?” In response Lian made a harsh sound with her throat, causing Roman to laugh. 

“You might have noticed that I have no trouble saying what I’m thinking,” she went on, and he gave her a look that was a little too innocent. “Well, you could say it’s my constant trait. In any case it's the nicest way to view it: I ruffled quite a few feathers my first year at Hogwarts, but it wasn’t until the end of it that I felt like I’d made any real impact during my time there.” She clenched her metal arm self-consciously. “Skip ahead to when my life was unraveling literally in my hands, and I realized that yes, I could die then and there--like I’d always believed I was supposed to...but if I let go, I’d also let go of all the things I’d done in the last thirteen years, and while I’m an annoying thorn in several backsides, I believe that I’d done some good, and didn’t want it all to be for nothing. So I gave you the Blood-Turner, and in doing so saved my life, and the outcome of several years, really.”

Roman nodded as she finished speaking, putting the pieces together on his own. “You think that if you hadn’t gone to Hogwarts and seen the differences you could make, you would have let yourself go?”

Lian smiled ruefully. “Well when you say it like that I sound haughty, but,” she shrugged up her shoulders. “Yeah.”

“Makes sense, I guess… but we got off topic--why do you have an ally?”

She licked her lips. “...Before I left Ilvermorny...Jason and Matt--who are amazing by the way, my rocks, really--they sat me down and forced me to have a real talk, about life and the future and all that nonsense…” She hesitated, expecting an interruption but received none. “I suppose they sensed that I was plotting something, but instead of telling them about you and what I was trying to do, I thought I’d throw up a smokescreen and pretend I was extremely cautious when it came to romance, because of my unique ability to see through people in an instant.”

That’s when the interruption came. “Wait, your friends  _ know _ about your Legilimency?”

“The ones at Ilvermorny, yes, they were there when I was still trying to gain control and watched as I made mistake after mistake. It was either tell them the truth or tell them I was schizophrenic. I wasn’t lying when I told them that I didn’t experience crushes the way other girls did--remember when I said that going too far into other minds makes you lose parts of yourself?”

“Vaguely,” he replied numbly. “Why?”

“Well. From the age of seven, which is when my Legilimency became apparent, I had been picking up experience and wisdom that was eons beyond my regular reaching. A lot from mom, and other influential adults in my life. I learned all boys are stupid in the years between twelve and twenty-four, which is apparently the year they earn brains. I also learned that love makes your judgement hazy and ignorant of warning signs--basically I had already made up my mind that I wasn’t going to date anyone until I was  _ old _ , and ready for that kind of affair. If I hadn’t been such a nosy kid I’d probably experience the normal teenage life like everyone else, but I wouldn’t change what happened--I’m satisfied with the result.”

“Which is what?”

“Jason and Matt were concerned that I was letting genuine opportunities escape my grasp--that’s what brotherly friends do, you know, they tell you when and why they’re concerned. So we set up a plan together. 

“I promised them that  _ if _ there was ever anyone that I thought might have a chance with me and vice versa...once all my questing was over...and  _ if _ I survived...I wouldn’t let him be my friend. I liked my friends, insomuch that I wanted to keep them in the friendship box. But I’d still want to get to know him...and I needed people to trust me quicker than usual in the days to come, I knew that well enough...and I would only let those I trusted close to me anyway, because you know, I can tell in a glance. If someone was that close to me, but not my friend, I would call them an ally.”

Roman studied her from where he rested against the tree trunk, and (having sat up long enough) Lian flopped onto her back to stare up at the sky, slightly surprised to discover that it had gone from bright blue to pinkish orange as the sun began to descend in the west. 

She remembered Matt and Jason looking so proud of themselves after she’d made the promise, and they’d wasted no time in telling her parents, both siblings, and just for the heck of it they’d run down to Dziadek’s bakery and told each customer about it. They’d looked forward to their sixth year with such hope...and then she’d been accepted to Hogwarts and left without telling either of them. Thinking back on it, she made a silent vow to apologize to both of them as soon as she returned home. Speaking of…

“Will you return the Blood-Turner to me?” she asked the canopy of leaves far above her, though it was her twin, not they, who answered.

“Now?” he sounded surprised.

Sitting up, she gave him the  _ Duh _ face. “Yes, please.”

“Don’t you have more to teach me?” he got to his feet, brushing the dust off his trousers before he offered her a hand, which she took.

“Yes, but I’ve given you the basics and you’re a smart boy, you should be able to figure out the particulars on your own...or you could just come along with me…” 

“I’m not leaving Alphard!” he snapped, before adding in a gentler voice. “Besides, we still don’t know why I was put in this time, and I for one would like to figure that out before I--how did you put it, disappear?”

“On the day we were born, yes,” Lian sighed. “Are you sure? This might be your only chance to leave this time on your terms…”

“I’m absolutely certain. I can’t leave yet.”

“Alright,” she said, nodding decisively. “Then I’ll stay with you.”

Roman blanched for a good minute before he could reply. “I thought it was important to you that you return to the future before you mess up the past or whatever. What about the people you left behind? What about the inconvenience?”

“All of that is true. What’s also true is that I didn’t make all of those sacrifices to leave without you!”

He took a step away from her, and she could sense his cold touch through their mental connection, trying to pull it apart. “I’m sorry, Jules, but you’re going to have to do just that.”

 


	15. For Now

“Whoa there, Skippy,” Julianne flicked my forehead with her fingers, as if that would encourage me to stop trying to break away from the link she’d planted in my mind. “No need to be so dramatic, jeez.”

“Don’t you need to sever all ties with me or something?” I asked, trying to cover my injured ego. Sirius was the dramatic one, though Regulus was right behind him on that scale. Comparatively, I’d always been quite level-headed.

She waited a full five seconds before she snorted with laughter. “‘Sever all ties’?  _ With you? _ I could just as easily renounce our mother, so cool your jets before you hurt the both of us.”

Relinquishing the pressure on the connection, I asked, “How would breaking the mental link hurt us?”

She squinted up at me for a moment, until I realized she wasn’t squinting for effect: she was  _ concentrating. _ One moment too late, I felt a headache so painful and fierce, it was as though she’d taken an axe and let the blade come to rest about halfway through my brain. It lasted for a heartbeat, maybe two, and then the awful pain receded and I was clutching my head for no reason. 

“WHAT WAS THAT FOR?”

“I’ve been talking for the better part of three hours but apparently you weren’t listening. You needed a demonstration—which I guess I should’ve seen coming from a Ravenclaw,” she sighed. “ _ That _ is what happens when you try to break a mental link as strong as ours.”

“We’ve only had it for less than a day.” (Which I realized later was false—we’d had it the entire time I’d been comatose.)

“But we’ve been siblings since the day we were born five minutes apart four years from now.” Julianne folded her arms over her chest and gave me a patronizing stare. “The potential for a bond was always there, just a little late in fruition.” 

“Delayed, I imagine, by my sudden departure from the future?” My voice was dripping with sarcasm, but it only seemed to amuse her. 

“So, you want to stay here. What for?”

Resisting the urge to correct her grammar, I said, “I’d like to at least try and graduate school. If I leave with you, I might be too busy getting smothered to finish.” She rolled her eyes but didn’t comment, so I imagined my assumption to be founded. It gave me a warm feeling inside that was new, but I persisted in stating my point. “And as I said before; I don’t think someone dropped me in the 60’s because they were bored. I have to believe there was a bigger purpose to my living in these years, and what if leaving with you only ruins it?”

“What if leaving with me saves you from some malicious intent?” she challenged, but in her expression I saw a flicker of doubt. I couldn’t be sure, but I think she was starting to realize that I had to remain, and maybe not for the reasons I was giving. 

Focusing my mind at her, I thought,  _ What aren’t you telling me? _

_ A lot of things,  _ she replied vaguely.  _ You’re going to have to be a little more specific. _

_ You know I have to stay.  _ I thought accusingly.  _ Why do you know that?  _ She gazed stoically at me, and while I couldn’t read her as well as she read me, I still understood body language and tells. That’s what had kept me one jump ahead of everyone else at school.  _ I came to you more than once, didn’t I? More than the time you were five--if I go with you now, the future will change and you don’t know how.  _

_ Dammit, we  _ are  _ related. _ I think she sent that in an effort to distract me but it didn’t work.

_ But how does that work? I could only come to you if I skipped a few years or--wait, does that mean I keep your time-turner? _

_ No, I need it to go back to my present, your future. Find your own time-skipper.  _

_ How am I supposed to do that? How did you get yours? _

_ It was a gift! _

_ Well, now you can re-gift it to me!  _ I was beginning to see the downside of a mental link. Our thoughts flew back and forth faster than we could reign them in. I made a vow with myself to never make this kind of connection with anyone ever, because I’d probably end up killing them. I wouldn’t kill my sister though--from what I’d seen, she was too powerful for me to even hope to succeed. 

_ I just told you, that’s not going to work! _

I was struck with an idea and it was out the top of my head before I could think it through. See? Downside.  _ What if I went to the future with you, and then you gave me the hourglass and I came back here? _

_ Dude, what about IT WON’T WORK do you NOT understand!? _

_ EVERYTHING, APPARENTLY! _

I think I irritated the truth right out of her because she snapped and revealed,  _ YOU CAN’T HAVE IT. I GOT IT FROM YOU.  _ She’d been speaking with her mind, but she’d still used her hands and arms as she communicated. Taking a moment to breathe deeply, she clenched her hands into fists, and lowered them to her sids. “...I don’t know how, but technically, you found it first. If I give you it’s future version, eliminating the reason for your finding the original, the one we have now will disappear…”

For the briefest of moments I was glad I hadn’t grown up with her around, but then I realized we’d probably have gotten along much like Sirius and Regulus--who still loved each other beneath all their disagreements. 

_ Well, _ she thought, eavesdropping on my thoughts again.  _ However it would’ve happened, I’ve always thought that we would get on better than Jason and his twin… _

_ Who? _

_ My best friend back in New Y--oh it doesn’t really matter now. Point is, they hate each other. I’m starting to understand why… _

_ Just because we don’t agree? _

_ Just because we’re too stubborn to admit when the other one’s right.  _ She tisked.  _ Siblings for a day… _

“I suppose I owe you a time-turner, then?”

“You suppose correctly, brother dear.”

When I later looked back on this particular afternoon, I liked to think that she was trying to gage my emotional spectrum. It wasn’t as though she’d had much of a chance before, and as I had yet to learn—siblings annoy each other because they  _ can _ . Also, I believe she wanted to be fully certain that remaining in the past was my choice, so when the doubts came later, and they would, I could remember that afternoon, and that I’d been responsible for my fate. 

The days were coming where it would feel like I had no choice at all. 

This memory, this time with Jules would become essential for my survival. 

 

* * *

 

We returned to the mansion in silence, surprisingly both verbally and mentally. But once we’d entered the sun room, I could hear James and Sirius in the hall. 

_ They can’t know about me, _ Julianne warned, hearing them as well. 

_ Hide! _ I thought at her. She hit carpet and rolled under the settee right as the other two walked in and saw me standing apparently alone.

“There you are!” said James cheerfully. “Listen, I know ‘Bitsy Pookums’ is your favorite so far, but we were thinking ‘Shadowclaw’ or ‘Nightmare’, because you know, you’re basically a night-terror.” he placed his fist under his chin and looked at me over his glasses. “Thoughts?”

_ What is he talking about?  _ Julianne demanded from where she was hiding.

_ They’ve been trying to invent nicknames based on our animagus forms.  _ “Really? You two are okay with calling me ‘Nightmare’ in public?” 

_ It’s better than the one Sirius thought of _ , my sister supplied.  _ I wouldn’t even call you that in private. _

Feeling left out, I glanced at Sirius to see if--and it wasn’t that difficult because he was practically shouting the idea that I would rather die than repeat.  _ Well, other than that revelation--this mind reading thing is nifty. _

_ Just don’t go overboard. _

_ Yeah, yeah. _

At my question, they glanced at each other and shrugged. “Well, we’ve already decided we’re going to call Remus  _ ‘Moony’ _ and Peter’s grown fond of ‘ _ Wormtail _ ’.

“So the names reflect the animal more than the individual?” I pointed out, causing them to frown. 

_ That’s what I was gonna say. _

_ Shut up. _

_ I’ve got an idea that reflects you and your animagus. _

_ Shut up. _

_ You sure? It’s loads better than Sirius’s idea. _

_ I said- _

“Well that’s true...though I still think James here should be ‘ _ Prancer _ ’.”

“I’m a stag, not a bleeding reindeer!”

“Nobody will know the difference!”

“I’d prefer something a bit more original,” James pouted, and then turned to me for support.

“Maybe if you both ran around outside in your forms you’d get a better idea for the alias you’d like to go by,” I suggested, mostly to get them away from the chance of discovering my twin sister from the future. “I just took a turn myself and I’ll tell you--it feels great.”

Sirius perked right up. I could almost see his tail wagging. “That’s not a half bad idea. Come on then,  _ Prancer _ ,”

James cuffed him upside the head and ran ahead outside, leaving Sirius to go pounding after him. Once the door closed with a slam, Julianne slithered out from her hiding spot and jumped to her feet.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” I said, speaking as though Sirius and James hadn’t just existed between us, and headed  upstairs. “What  _ is  _ your animagus form? You know mine’s a panther, and we’re un-identical twins, so..?”

“I don’t think our animagi would have complemented even if we had been identical. Though there is a resemblance, I suppose; mine is a Wampus Cat.”

“Gesundheit,” I offered, certain I’d misheard.

“It’s a six-legged mountain lion, commonly found in the Appalachian Mountains, with abilities ranging from Legilimency to Hypnosis. Speaking for my own experience: both are possible.” She sounded like a dictionary. I’d bet anything she participated actively in school, too.

“Wait, so you’re not just an animal, you’re a magical creature?” I asked, feeling a spike of envy. 

“Believe it or not, I only studied and became an Animagi because I hoped I would become a mundane animal incapable of seeing into lesser minds. The day I first transformed I learned that you can’t run from your problems, and I learned it permanently.” She finished with a rather bitter taste in her voice, and I felt my envy wash away. “And anyway, when I transform now I only have five-legs, so it’s safe to assume that I’m very recognizable.”

I was only confused until my eyes found her prosthetic arm. “I see...may I ask how that happened?”

She hesitated and chewed the tip of her tongue before replying. “I lost it a year ago. I was in a battle that should’ve never been fought, to save somebody who wasn’t there to begin with.” 

“That’s either a thrilling saga or a depressing tale,” I commented, not wanting to accidentally offend her sacrifice. “Was it worth it?” 

“I think so. I lost an arm, but the man behind me kept his life.” Was it a trick of the light, or had she glanced out the window, where we could both hear a dog barking. A dog that wasn’t really a dog… 

“How long does the war last?” I wasn’t stupid: there had been whispers about one for years now, but it wasn’t the kind of thing you talked about in Muggle Studies. Jules talked about battles, duels and fights as though they were a common occurrence, and even before her cautious talk about ‘allies’ I knew that my sister was a trained warrior: scars and all. It made me all the more curious about her school in America. What had transpired in her first five years that had prepared her to face dangers and dark wizards in the blink of an eye or the drop of a hat? 

“It lasts as long as there are those willing to make a stand against the tyrant that made it necessary,” she replied, sounding more like Professor Binns than herself. 

“Who wins?”

She shook her head, and seemed to have nothing more to add. 

We were quiet again until I’d found the silver time-turner with the bronze sand inside. It looked so fragile, it was difficult to believe it was such a powerful object. 

Turning to my sister, I hesitated in giving it to her. “What happens if you touch it?”

“I normally kept it on my person when I travelled in time before, and when my turn was up I’d just pop back to where I left...but like I said before I’ve never been away this long, so I haven’t a clue when I’ll turn up...but so long as it’s within a month or so of my leaving, it should be okay.” She stared at the side of my face until I met her gaze. 

“What?”

“Nothing...just trying to memorize what you look like...because if I see mom before you do, I’ll have to tell her everything.”

Now that was just mean, bringing our mother into this. A kind woman whom I held very little memories of, but I’d at least glimpsed her during my short trip through Julianne’s mind. For the first time since the subject was breached, I was tempted to throw away this life and follow her to the future. I had a family there--a real one. And no one in this timeline would or could stop me from leaving…

_Roman._ Julianne caught me off guard by addressing me with _that_ name, but I didn’t protest. It was more fitting than Pollux or Oliver could ever be. _When next I meet you, you’d better have all the answers you said you’d look for._ I supposed that was her own way of accepting my decision to remain in the past. _And as a head’s up...the next time you meet me, I won’t have a clue who you are._ _It’s important that you don’t tell me, okay? Only if we have the mental connection are you allowed to treat me like family. Remember that, and the timeline should remain in tact… Just try to survive. You owe your younger siblings a Star Wars marathon, and we’ll never let you forget it._

Why was she looking at me like that, with glittering brown eyes filled with tears she was too stubborn to shed. She looked proud, miserable, happy, furious and determined all in one go. And then she tackled me, nearly knocking me off my feet as she wrapped her skinny arms around my shoulders and back. She had no thoughts, no words, just held me in a rib-crushing embrace that I wasn’t likely to forget for a very long time. 

I think that was the point. 

I never felt her take the Blood Turner out of my grasp, I only felt her disappear with a soft pop...and then I was alone, leaning against my nightstand for support, my arms still encircled around the space that used to be filled by my sister. 

I don’t know how she did it, but somehow the one thing she’d left behind were her tears. I could feel them falling down my cheeks. 

 

* * *

 

Alphard was shocked to see me again. I’d knocked on his office door and entered upon invitation. If his facial expression wasn’t enough, I could sense his personal earthquake from across the room as I walked in. 

“Pollux?” He said hesitantly. 

Were it not for my impeccable amount of self-control I’d have flinched. “I think it’s best if I answer to  _ ‘Roman’ _ from here on out, don’t you?” I took a seat. “After all, you kept it as my middle name, so it wouldn’t seem too much of a stretch to the rest of the world, would it?”

He nodded, then craned his neck as though it was stiff. “I thought...I thought you’d left. Where is Ms. Kowalski?”

“She’s gone back to her time.” I considered mentioning my familial connection with her, but I realized that it didn’t matter too much. There was something about her that I needed to make absolutely clear. “But I have to say—”

“Did she tell you what happened while you were indisposed?” He asked suddenly. 

“No, why?” If she intended to mention anything, it must’ve slipped her mind when we worked out what we were to one another. I know of quite a few things that seemed less important in that moment, despite my denial. 

“During the second week, she was telling me about the importance of keeping her visit between the three of us, and well—we were interrupted.”

A feeling of dread flushed through me. “By whom?”

“You’ll recall my niece, your cousin Bella?” 

Now I was thinking of a few of Julianne’s undignified phrases she’d shared with me just that afternoon, none of which I said aloud. “Beautiful. What happened?”  _ The more accurate question being who shot first? _

“She refused to explain it to me afterwards, but Ms. Kowalski hexed her upon sight.” I closed my eyes as he continued. “They duelled viciously all throughout the greenhouses, damaging the bubotuber’s and upsetting the mandrakes. I had to step in at last and  _ confounded  _ Bella while I restrained Ms. Kowalski. I sent Bella home to her husband with a mild headache but I can’t be sure that she won’t have some recollection of the incident.”

I exhaled through my mouth slowly. “Well. That’s just brilliant. I was about to tell you to keep Julianne a secret, but thanks for that.” Silence fell between us as I lapsed into reflection. When my sister had opened her mind to me, I’d seen flashes of her life at rapid speed—and I thought I’d seen members of the most ancient and whatever house of Black, but they hadn’t been presented in any context. Was there a connection to Bellatrix’s future self and my sister? I mean, I hadn’t survived a family gathering without wanting to set my cousin’s mane on fire but I’d exercised self-control so far. While Jules had proven to be more of a hothead than myself, I couldn’t believe she was so violently inclined to attack without provocation. 

Even though she was long gone by now, I couldn’t help but wonder if the answer was within my reach. Or maybe I’d go to the future very soon and witness the events for myself? I needed to get my hands on a bloody time-turner. 

As I got to my feet, Alphard motioned for me to stay a moment. “When...that it to say, when will you leave?”

I raised my eyebrows, but I knew he was only asking because he wanted time to prepare. He wasn’t trying to kick me out:  _ alright the truth is out—and so are you, young man! _ Nothing like that. “I was thinking around September 1st...I’ve got to go back to school, you see.” I cracked a smile at his puzzled expression. “But if it’s all the same to you, I would like to continue calling this place home, and you my father.” I couldn’t tell him about my side quest to use the timeline as a jump rope. He could barely handle a rogue visitor from the future; what I was thinking of doing might send him over the edge. 

He hid his relief under a layer of surprise, but I could sense it just the same. (I was beginning to understand my sisters general cockiness.) “Oh, of course. I’d be delighted to keep you.” 

Feeling awkward just standing there, I cast about for another topic of conversation and settled upon something I’d picked up from Sirius that morning. “So, why is Burgie pressuring you to play host this summer?” 

Alphard rolled his eyes—a rare sight, he almost always coughed instead but then again it was just me— “She and Orion have been... _ impressed _ by that cult leader running around terrorizing muggles. They think it’s a good idea to show that the Black family is in full support of his beliefs, and what with my inheritance of the largest property and being the oldest son of Pollux Black, they’ve been trying to convince me to open my home to him and his followers…” 

I didn’t need Legilimency to sense the disgust and utter loathing in his voice. He would rather bathe in Death Potion than comply with Burgie. 

“Well, at least we’ve the advantage of shoring up the protections.” I offered cheerfully, hoping he’d forgotten how easily Julianne had found the house. 

“Yes, your little friend had a few suggestions in that department as well,” Alphard admitted, though he didn’t sound grumpy. On the contrary, his dry amusement could be translated to full blown laughter from any other man. “My favorite being that if anyone uninvited attempts to apparate, walk, or fly into the grounds or house, they’ll be redirected to some place in Africa.” 

I raised my eyebrows. “Really?” 

Alphard waved his hand lazily. “It was only a suggestion. They’ll only wind up elsewhere in Europe.” 

“...I’m still welcome here, yes?” 

My adopted father gave me a wry grin. “For now.” 


	16. Night of the Living Dead House-Elf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thousand apologies for disappearing off the face of the earth! I promise to never let you wait this long for an update again! There have been a lot of personal hurdles in my life that I've had to leap over, and unfortunately I wasn't able to write as well or as often as I wished. But I'm getting back into the groove and I'm far from finished with the story of my Americans in Hogwarts!   
> That said, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

_ Somewhere in the English Countryside, 1800s _

 

It was late in the evening when she finally arrived, but the master of the house was wide awake. It had been months since he’d last slept, after all his visions and inner demons had taken hold of his mind, thus it was only at the last moment of sanity that he called for an expert. 

Cassandra knocked only once upon the grand mansion’s door, it was all that was needed to prompt one of the many House-elves to let her inside. She was a slight woman, draped in midnight blue robes that only served to highlight her large, sightless eyes. She hadn’t always been blind, the rumor was that she’d sacrificed her sight for her inner eye, which was never wrong. Others would whisper that she’d been born with such a powerful ability to see into the future that one day, she’d looked too far and saw too much, damaging her physical eyes in the process. Stories and myths followed the mysterious woman wherever she passed, likely stimulated by the strong aura that radiated from her. It served to enlighten and warn those who encroached upon her space that she was more than what she seemed. 

The house elf that led her through the mansion had a dead foot, she could hear him dragging it across the floor intermittently with his left, which worked just fine. “Master is not to be looked at directly,” the house elf growled. 

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Cassandra mused. “Hasn’t been for the last three years.”

“Ma’am must not approach Master without permission,” the house elf went on, ignoring her humor. Clearly he had a list of rules to tell her before allowing her into the presence of the man by whom she’d been summoned. “And you must refrain from using common terms in your speech. Master respects only those with perfect posture, and you mustn’t blink. Not once.” 

“Dear me,” Cassandra sniffed as she was led around yet another winding staircase. “He sounds like a madman.”

“Ma’am mustn’t use such terms!” the house elf barked sharply. 

The woman sighed softly, and allowed the house elf to continue through his list without further comment, no matter how much she was tempted after he began detailing the types of fungi she wasn’t allowed to mention before the Master of the mansion. After what must’ve been an hour of instructions, she was directed through a heavy door (mahogany, by the groan of its hinges), and told to sit in a hard-backed chair. The house elf and his dragging foot left the room without another word, leaving her to wait for her summoner to speak. She could hear him breathing, though he was trying to be quiet about it. He was somewhere to her back left and was likely making a final decision about whether or not he wanted her there. Feeling slightly impatient after her hike around what was either a stupidly huge house or in circles until the house elf was finished drilling her, she decided to speak first.

“I am Cassandra Trelawney, Mr. Black, and despite what your fellows might have told you, I do not have a great patience for those unwilling to speak.”

She heard him snort through his nose, before moving slowly towards where she sat rather stiffly. “I did not ask you here for a conversation, woman, I seek the use of your many gifts...or shouldn’t you know that already?”

“The Inner Eye does not permit me to gaze into your mind, Mr. Black, though it is a common mistake amongst the wizarding community.” She deliberately used the word ‘common’ to see if his behaviour would change. 

It did not. Apparently he was past the usual point of stress and carried on. “Then what use are you to me!?”

“I believe you know the answer to your question already. Something that has arisen recently perturbs you about your future, perhaps? If you could stop pacing like a wild beast for only a moment and speak like the gentleman I was led to believe you could be-” she paused in order to let her words hit him the way she intended. “-you could explain your reasons for summoning me, and I might decide whether your future is worth taking at a glance.”

Cassandra heard him stop abruptly, and felt his gazing boring holes into the side of her face. She could practically foresee him hexing her to Godric’s Hollow and back, but instead he chose to settle into a surface that sounded much softer than the terrible punishing chair she was perched upon. Cassandra waited for him to speak, giving him a chance to undermine his own pride and tell her what had been haunting his mind. 

Several heavy heartbeats later he finally began. “I have never set much store by your craft, not possessing the gift of true sight myself, but for over a fortnight I have been riddled with fears unbefitting a man of my stature.”

_ Pretty words,  _ Cassandra thought privately.  _ Get on with it. _ She would normally comment then but this man had dramatic tendencies from what she’d been exposed to thus far. It was probably wise to wait for him to finish his declaration before she spoke again. 

“My bloodline has been a pillar in the wizarding community since before the four founders were conceived,” Mr. Black continued, and while Cassandra couldn’t actually  _ see  _ him, she could still imagine the expression he wore as he spoke of how important his family name was to the world at large. “Every generation has ensured that the line remains pure, any hint of disease is immediately eradicated, and so it will continue but recently I’ve been…” he paused, searching his vocabulary for the correct phrase. In the end he surrendered and simply admitted, “I fear for my descendants, that they shall be cut off, and the good name of the noble Blacks will wither and die out before its time…”

_ You and every other pureblood family these days, _ was what Cassandra wanted to say, but before she could even try, she sensed a shift in the air between herself and Mr. Black.

“ _ What? _ ” he demanded, his smooth voice suddenly raw and cracked. “ _ What did you say to me? _ ”

_ Oh dear,  _ Cassandra cleared her throat. “Good sir, you have just received a prophecy. I would suggest writing down all that you heard, as I am not likely to repeat myself.”

 

\--

 

_ September 19th, 1975 _

 

“Doth mine eyes deceive me,” Sirius called loudly and annoyingly as I crossed the castle grounds as dusk settled upon the horizon. “Who let the prefect out?”

“Shut up,” I replied, watching as the three Gryffindors materialized from thin air, and James tucked his father’s cloak away. “What’s the point of sneaking out invisibly if you’re only going to announce your location at the first chance?”

“You should talk, aren’t you on perimeter or something?” Peter grinned. 

“That was yesterday, and even if I were,” I gestured to the grounds with a single sweeping motion. “-this should count as doing my ‘rounds.”

“Ah yes, ‘round the greenhouses, ‘round the pitch, ‘round the entire Forbidden Forest…” James chuckled. “Just like every other Prefect.”

Instead of bickering needlessly, I jerked my chin towards our destination. “What’s the plan for getting down there, then?”

Sirius clapped Peter on the back. “Wormtail volunteered-”

“No I didn’t!” the chubby boy interrupted indignantly.

“Fine, Wormtail was volun _ told _ ,” Sirius corrected, “to find the knot as Moony described.”

Four years of planning had built up to tonight, and either it was crazy enough to work or it was stupid enough to fail after five minutes. Either way, my voice of reason had seriously decreased after my summer vacation, and with Remus absent, the four of us stood no chance of entertaining a shred of logic. Without further argument, the four of us transformed; Peter into a rat, Sirius into a dog, James into a stag, and myself into a panther. We approached the Whomping Willow confidently, Padfoot, James and I pausing whilst ushering the rat on ahead as the branches trembled warningly. Wormtail squeaked in terror as the first limb that came down upon him like a fist. 

I thought he was dead for a full seven seconds, and had already begun to devise another way to reach the knot at the base of the Death tree, when I spotted the rat zigzagging through the grass towards the gnarled roots. 

Padfoot barked, whether to laugh or urge Wormtail to hurry up, I couldn’t tell. At last the rat reached the trunk and scurried around, pressing at random spots in the trunk desperately, but the willow’s whomping did not cease. 

Feeling impatient, I saw an opening in the barrage and dashed through it, shoving my maw into the first knot I found. Immediately the tree stilled, and the opening among the roots revealed itself. As anticipated, it wouldn’t fit James as a stag, so Padfoot surged down and went to fetch the werewolf alone. Flashes from my first experience with Moony flitted across my vision before I took the plunge after Padfoot. 

Fifth year started a bit uneven for me, in the last two weeks I’d felt like one leg was longer than the other, like everything about my last four years at school hadn’t happened and I was a new kid, starting afresh. This feeling was only slightly true, as the last four years  _ had  _ happened. And yet, I was different. Even Alphard made the comment, telling me that I had completely morphed into a new person after Julianne had gone. The reality being that in her wake, more memories of my short but real American life had washed over me. While five years might not mean much, the emotional pull that my missing years had given me had altered the way I looked at myself, at people in general, and above all, how I behaved. 

Pollux Black had tried to follow in his father’s footsteps. Roman Black-Kowalski (the Kowalski is silent,) felt rebellious and wild. It was ridiculous how easily I fell into his shoes. It was though with every choice laid at my feet, there was this voice whispering in my ear saying, “ _ You’re an American. Forget proper behaviour. Have fun.” _ I’d be lying if I said I wanted the new voice to go away. Sometimes I wished it would shout loud enough for everyone else to hear, but I knew that would only cause more problems than it could solve.

The earthy tunnel led to an old door hanging on its hinges, through which Padfoot and I heard ragged breathing that was half-animal, half-teenage boy. I flicked my tail at my cousin, cautioning him to wait but he pushed ahead, and after releasing an exasperated growl I followed. 

I hadn’t had much of a chance to look at the interior the last time I’d traversed this particular rabbit hole. Still I imagined that the vicious demolition of what could have been a parlour room in another lifetime was new. It really accented the ripped and torn curtains, barely covering windows that had to be enchanted, or he’d have escaped a long time ago. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Padfoot’s fur beginning to bristle. The severity of what we were attempting seemed to have finally hit him, and I could practically smell his fear.  _ Wait, I was an animal, I really  _ could _ smell fear.  _ I wasn’t worried. I knew we’d survive whatever happened—having a sister from the future insist that certain people didn’t meet her may have had something to do with that confidence. 

Taking the lead through the echoed house, I followed my ears to the now full-wolf growls and moans until I came nose to nose with a half-matured werewolf. He was as skinny as Remus, with elongated limbs and a bush of a tail protruding from his rump. His ears were smaller than I’d expected, but still canine and pointed, and he was covered from head to tail in light brown fur, much like Remus’s hair color.

His golden eyes glowed as he stared at me in confusion. I’d imagine after countless full moons alone, he was utterly baffled to find a glorified black cat in his face. A situation made hardly better by the arrival of the husky black dog, rather Padfoots appearance made the situation worse. 

The werewolf reared back on his haunches, fangs barked and claws poised for optimum slicing. The growl he emitted chilled my entire skeleton, but I knew better than to move. Carnivores at their core loved a chase, the last thing I or Sirius should do was run away. 

Padfoot had another idea. He lowered himself, tail wagging high in the air, and barked out a challenge. The werewolf fell onto his fours, leering down at the pair of us. The dog barked again, jumped forward to swipe at the air near the werewolf’s ear, before he turned tail and bolted for the exit. 

There was a comical moment where we both watched him disappear, barking merrily, before he returned to taunt the beast, dashing away a heartbeat later. The werewolf and I exchanged an awkward glance before he advanced on me with a furious howl. Cursing Padfoot, I turned on the spot and charged back to the willow’s tunnel. 

This chase was made immensely easier by the addition of another set of running feet,  _ or paws _ , and I soon caught up with my idiot cousin. Unfortunately, so did Moony. The three of us burst from the Whomping Willows tunnel snout after tail, a feat which caused James (though he would deny it for the rest of his life) to make his first pile of droppings right there on the Hogwarts grounds. Wormtail screeched from his perch on the stag’s head, alerting the werewolf to the presence of prey, probably, bringing him to a halt. I turned to watch him look from the stag, to Padfoot, to myself, and then over at the Forbidden Forest. He released a howl, this one full of longing, before he began to run for the trees. 

Padfoot, James and I pounded after him, I spotted his smallish ears turned back, listening to us follow in his wake. 

For his part, the werewolf gave it his best effort to lose us in the forest, though he failed at every turn. He ran into me more times than I’ll ever care to count—until finally he stopped on the crest of a hill, bathed in a halo of moonlight. Moony’s golden eyes stared around at the four of us, and he stood back on his haunches again. James and Padfoot came to a halt at the bottom of the hill, before lowering themselves in some kind of respect to the werewolf. 

That left me, and I had no intention of submitting myself to what was essentially a venomous, overgrown puppy. I held back in the trees, watching while the werewolf nipped the necks of my cousin and his friends.  _ He was marking them, maybe? or we were all about to find out if animals were affected by the bite or not.  _

Moony then turned his golden gaze on me, where I was perched on a tree branch above, and made a soft keening noise. If I were a great sympathizer of animals or magical beasts, I could have been swayed to approach the alpha-on-the-rise, but I wasn’t so I didn’t. 

Now that Moony was calm, I had more pressing questions—like what was at the center of the forest, and what made it forbidden? Without warning, I took off running through the trees. Moony gave chase from the ground, flanked by Padfoot and James, Wormtail clinging desperately to the latter’s antlers. 

It was going to be a long night. 

 

—

 

_ Somewhere in the English Countryside, 1800s _

 

Geoffrey the house-elf had been the head of the staff for the last twelve years, though he’d only been a gimp for three of them. The incident had been nothing terribly major, a self-punishing gone horribly awry, and he never complained once in all the time thereafter. As heir to the better part of the Black family fortune, Sirius used to be rather tickled over Geoffrey’s predicament—after all, the mark of a good house-elf was that you didn’t know they existed. As the famed seer was guided around the same series of room's only one floor below, Geoffrey’s growling voice detailing whatever random commands he could think of, Sirius laughed. As the eldest male in the family, he’d also inherited a blatant disregard for traditional values. He didn’t care if those who came to his mansion were covered in troll bogies, so long as they never bothered him again. But Geoffrey was a stickler for rules, and since he couldn’t enforce any of them on his Master, he went a little overboard with anyone who came to the estate. 

Ms. Trelawney was in the midst of suffering that, or she had been for the last hour and a half. The gimp elf, finally run out of instructions that she could never fully remember, allowed her into Sirius’s study at long last, placing her upon the least comfortable chair, and departing with a broad wink at his Master. 

Sirius hadn’t slept in weeks, his nightmares had followed him into his every waking step, and with the Seer in his presence, his reasons for summoning her to begin with all rushed back to the forefront of his mind. 

Evidently impatient after what Geoffrey had put her through, the willowy woman spoke into the silence. “I am Cassandra Trelawney, Mr. Black, and despite what your fellows might have told you, I do not have a great patience for those unwilling to speak.”

_ Finally, someone with a backbone. _ He thought, snorting through his nose at her words. He got agily to his feet and tread the space between them with purpose. “I did not ask you here for a conversation, woman,”  _ Yes I know you have a name, but I have a reputation or something to uphold. _ “I seek the use of your many gifts…” He couldn’t resist adding, “or shouldn’t you know that already?”

“The Inner Eye does not permit me to gaze into your mind, Mr. Black, though it is a common mistake amongst the wizarding community.” Trelawney replied smoothly, and Sirius knew in his cold, dead heart that if her eyes weren’t sightless, she’d be rolling them in his direction. Still, he didn’t invite her into his sanctuary to scold him. 

“Then what use are you to me!?” He demanded, starting to pace back and forth to further illustrate his displeasure. After all,  his own house-elf talked him up to be a madman of sorts, the  _ least _ he could do was act like it. 

“I believe you know the answer to your question already. Something that has arisen recently perturbs you about your future, perhaps?” She shifted in her wooden chair, out of discomfort likely. “If you could stop pacing like a wild beast for only a moment and speak like the gentlemen I was led to believe you could be—” she paused for dramatic effect or something. “-you could explain your reasons for summoning me, and I might decide whether your future is worth taking at a glance.”

_ Whether my future is WHAT?! _ Sirius stopped dead in his tracks, one foot raised above the dark carpet still as his head turned to glare at the blind woman. Several dark curses jumped to the tip of his tongue—all he needed to do was snap his fingers and she’d be nothing more than a scorch mark on that blasted chair. 

Maybe he was a little mad. Moving to his armchair by the window, he considered his next words very carefully. 

Once he regained control of his blood pressure, he began in the most honest way he could. “I have never set much store by your craft, not possessing the gift of true sight myself, but for over a fortnight I have been riddled with fears unbefitting a man of my stature.” He waited for her to comment, or make an inquiry, but she gave neither, evidently unimpressed by his words. 

She wanted to know what was keeping his exhausted eyes open and his mind working itself into nothing? He used to be a knowledgeable man, but after all this time he wasn’t so sure anymore. He could be cruel and describe in great detail the bloodshed he saw in his dreams, and waking hallucinations. He saw the family crest burning in an archway, saw streaks of red light and heard a boy screaming his throat raw. 

But she was a seer, wasn’t she? He refused to simply tell her what was haunting him, as the information would simply be twisted and handed back to him—that is if she was a charleton. He had to make certain that she was the real thing. 

“My bloodline has been a pillage in the wizarding community since before the four founders were conceived,” he said plainly, without pride or brashness—it was all history anyway. Still, he had to paint a picture of whom she conversed so casually. “Every generation has ensured that the line remains pure, any hint of disease is immediately eradicated, and so it will continue but recently I’ve been…” he paused, searching his vocabulary for the correct phrase. In the end he surrendered and simply admitted, “I fear for my descendants, that they shall be cut off, and the good name of the noble Blacks will wither and die out before its time…”

He had barely finished talking before the woman slumped forward in her seat. Sirius jumped to his feet, ready to help her or hit her, depending on whether she was dead or fell asleep. Before he could move again however, she sat bolt upright, her sightless eyes staring right at him as they glowed a milky blue. Her jaw fell open and a deep voice that did not belong to Cassandra Trelawney spoke to him. Each word carved its place into his ear canal, where they would drown out his nightmares and echo from his bones until his dying day. 

Cassandra’s hand raised while that voice spoke to him, and the glass orb she clutched filled with a smoke the same color of her glowing eyes. 

She hunched forward again, the orb falling from her grip to the carpet, where it rolled towards Sirius and came to a stop at his feet. When she sat up straight again, her eyes blank once more as though nothing had happened, he hissed, “ _What?”_ _was that?_ Only his voice failed him and he had to try again. “ _What did you say to me?”_

Cassandra cleared her throat. “Good sir, you have just received a prophecy. I would suggest writing down all that you heard, as I am not likely to repeat myself.”

 

—

 

_ September 20th, 1975 _

 

I awoke early the next morning to a pillow striking me in the face, and an irate voice gracing my ears. “Where were you last night?!”

I say I awoke, when really I’d probably had my eyes closed for ten minutes before this unwelcome interruption, and on a Saturday of all things. I lifted the pillow and threw it aimlessly, without opening my eyes. “Hmm.” 

“You ruddy inbred!”  _ Good morning to you too, Dork. _ Whoever thought it would be a good idea to make me a Prefect had been insane to think Dorcas Meadowes and I would make a good team. “I’ve watched you get away with everything but murder over the last few years, but I’ll be hexed if you get away with skipping Prefect duties as well!” 

Her anger was emphasized as the pillow struck my face again, a bit harder this time. 

Damocles and the other two were beginning to stir in their beds while Dork shouted her head off at me and my irresponsibility. “Who led the first years to the common room alone on day one, huh? Or what about giving detention to the sixth years for staying out past curfew?? Who stood up for the shy second year against the Gryffindor who was bullying her??? I’m reporting you r lazy arse  to Professor Flitwick!”

_ Again. _ I raised my hand to block the pillow from smacking me again, but this time I caught her wrist and my eyes snapped open. She had intended to slap me. 

I clutched her tight and sat up slowly, groggy silver eyes staring her down. Her thick hair was twisted into a huge knot atop her head, and her expression was livid, though her thoughts betrayed the rush of fear she felt as I came to consciousness. That puzzled me, for in all my years of interacting with Dork, I never once received the impression that she was scared of me.  _ Perks of Legilimency _ . 

“We weren’t on duty last night,” my voice ground out, thick with exhaustion and my last nerve. “Now: get. Out.”

I released her arm and watched her leave before collapsing back on my mattress with a sigh. She probably wasn’t referring to patrol, there might have been an incident in the common room that she could have wanted back-up with, but I wasn’t the only other Prefect in Ravenclaw Tower. 

_ Thank Merlin for that.  _

Still, this would make her seventh complaint against my actions (or lack there of) in barely two weeks of school. I was curious to how Professor Flitwick would try to curb my manner towards being a better Prefect. 

But not that interested, proven as not three heartbeats later I’d passed out. 

The next time I woke up, it was three o’clock in the afternoon, and yet I still wasn’t alone. There was pressure on my chest, and someone was breathing in my face. 

My eyes shot open and registered the enormous orbs inches from my nose. Half hidden behind wire brush eyebrows, the house-elf’s electric blue eyes gazed into my soul. His nose, which was broken several times over, was actually pressed against my own, though not as heavily as his feet, which were responsible for the weight on my sternum. 

Fighting my urge to knock him off me, I cleared my throat and said, “Um...can I help you?” 

“I is not supposed to talk to you,” the elf growled in a voice that suggested he’d spent an entire lifetime gargling sharp rocks. “Master was very specific. I isn’t speaking to you.” 

“Right on,” I replied, not possessing the heart to tell him he’d just broken an order. Whoever owned him needed to let this one retire—his wrinkles had wrinkles and his entire skeleton could be seen under his papery skin and his toga-styled cloth. I was tempted to name him Night-of-the-Living-Dead-House-Elf, but it didn’t roll off the tongue. 

We remained locked in a staring contest, eye to eyebush, until I tried to sit up. The little grouch kicked me with his right foot, grumbling something that sounded like a blend of “Stay down” and some obscene phrase I have no interest in repeating. 

“You is him, isn’t you?”  _ There he goes again, disobeying orders.  _

“...sure.” I’d tell him I was Rowena Ravenclaw if it would get him off me—I had to use the little liar’s room. 

“You has the eyes...You is him. Where is the missus?” The old elf demanded, raising his right foot threateningly.

“The who now?” I coughed, certain that I’d misheard him. 

“You is to find the missus, and then you must use this!” The elf reached into his toga and withdrew a glass orb filled with a bluish substance, neither liquid or gas but some hybrid. He shoved it in my face until I raised a hand to take it away from him, but his little fingers gripped it tightly. “You is the one. You mustn’t waste this!” 

“I won’t,”  _ though I’m about to lay waste to these clean sheets.  _

“Swear it! Solemnly swear it!” 

“I solemnly swear!” I repeated, feeling a little desperate by then, but my words mollified the elf, and he let go of the orb, and hopped to the floor. I sat up and swung my legs out of bed before he could change his mind. “Who are you?” 

The withered, old house-elf blinked up at me, already walking to the dormitory door. I noticed his right foot, the same to slap me across the face, was limply dragging across the floor intermittently with the left. “I isn’t here. I isn’t talking to you. Master was clear: Geoffrey mustn’t speak to you.” 

With a sudden CRACK, Geoffrey the undead house-elf disappeared. 

 


	17. Dork, the Dragon, and the Dead-Man Walking

As much emphasis was placed on the OWL exams by the professors, I observed an equated disinterest oozing from the student body, but none more so than could be found in myself.  Classes and homework seemed so much less of a challenge this year than ever before, and I knew the reason.

My Legilimency was having a party in my brain, and every subject was invited. I had a front row seat to the weaker, less protected minds of Hogwarts and I think it’s accurate to state that at one point I knew more about the going’s on inside the school than its Headmaster. Granted, I had no idea what was going on inside the Headmaster himself, but according to dear Minerva’s memories I didn’t _want_ to know. Classes were the worst for me, because of the buzzing emotions and wandering thoughts of those seated around me. James’ thoughts became especially loud whenever Lily was near, none of which I care to repeat here. They were about as loud as Sirius whenever Snape was around, and unfortunately for me the two instances usually came hand in hand. The longer I spent around the Gryffindors and company, the fiercer my migraines grew.

Yes, migraines, but at least I was a fifth year and could request the antidote from Madam Pomfrey without needing to explain too much, not that the matron nurse asked invasive questions anyway. It probably wouldn’t be as bad if I could tell someone about my newly sharpened gift, but then I’d have to explain it by either telling the truth or lying, and both options sounded exhausting. Keeping my mouth shut was the smart way, but it was also the lonely way. I pulled back slowly from my Gryffindor pack, until the four of them ran wild without looking around to see if I was there to add to the fun. Alice was usually with Frank and blissfully unaware of anyone else in the world, let alone me, and Mary… I hadn’t spoken to Mary once since the start of term, nor she me. Whatever promising thing my sister had seen in her before was surely gone now.

In short I’d successfully isolated myself by early November, or so I’d led myself to believe. Little did I realize that my plans for finishing my education in solace were about to (in true American fashion,) blow up in my face.

 

It started with Dork Meadowes patrolling the corridors with me. Every time we’d done so before we didn’t talk, just did the job and shooed younger students to their common room. As we passed under the clock tower I spotted the full moon outside and felt a pang in my chest, like a panther clawing at my sternum. I hadn’t been with them for October, and tonight was no exception but a small part of me still yearned for the reckless run through the grounds.

Forgetting the trick stair for the sixth week in a row, a string of curses brought me into the moment as I turned to look down at my partner. With her leg stuck, her arms waving wildly and her eyes full of panic, I couldn’t help but feel pity for her.

“You’d think after the last time one would never forget to jump that step, Dork,” I commented, offering her my arm as leverage.

She growled and tried to pinch me through my robes as she righted herself. “Don’t call me that, I hate it when you call me a dork.”

“What would you rather be called?” I asked, not really interested in her answer. The instant she was free we sprang apart as though touching each other caused us physical and psychological trauma.

“Well my friends call me Cas, so you should call me Meadowes, or your superior in every way,” she replied with a rather dignified flourish, continuing to march on down the corridor as though she hadn’t just been stuck up to her skirt.

I walked parallel to her, my hands deep in my robe pockets. “Yeah, I’m gonna stick with Dork.”

“Say it again and I’ll hex you, Black,” came the stiff threat in answer.

I coughed, glancing sideways at the full moon again, deciding to not dignify her declaration with a greater reaction. We walked in silence for quite some time which was just fine with me until we reached a shadowy hallway.

“Hold it,” Dork whispered, holding a hand out to stop me from walking past her. I raised a single eyebrow at her, glancing around at the empty level, or so it seemed. She held a finger to her lips and pointed to the narrow corridor up ahead—not many people knew it existed, which made it perfect for certain types who wanted to hide from prying eyes. Unfortunately for them, Dork was a master of prying and I had more eyes than I knew what to do with—moving so our shoes made minimal noise on the stone floor, we crept up to the corridor, wanting to catch them red-handed instead of scaring them away.

However, instead of hearing the usual noises of a couple glued together, we heard a whispered disagreement between two boys.

One of them, after swearing in a fashion that reminded me of my sister, said, “How do we know if it worked?”

“Well I dunno, Theo, maybe because we’re in a completely different place?” The other voice was snide and condescending, and yet it betrayed the fear he was trying to hide.

“First of all: no. No we are not,” despite my confusion I grinned. Dork had apparently gained more interest in eavesdropping now that we knew it wasn’t a tangled pair engrossed with only themselves. “We’re near the clock tower. Look if you just—” the speaker popped out of the narrow opening, stopping immediately when he laid eyes on myself and Dork. I was leaning one shoulder against the wall while she stood boldly with her arms crossed, both of us wearing similar expressions of dry disapproval.

“Don’t get cocky we might get s—“ his friend followed and halted as well, taking us in along with our Prefect badges.

“Lovely evening to sneak around,” I said in a monotone. “I’m almost curious as to what—“ I paused as it hit me. I’d seen these two before, in person(ish) and in memory, very vivid memories at that. The first one was called Theo Nott, and his pale, snide little friend was called Draco Malfoy—the future spawn of some Slytherins that had long since graduated this school.

“What’s the matter boys,” Dork picked up where I broke off. “Your dates stand you up for a weekly snog? Trying to find comfort in each other?”

“Piss off,” Draco snapped, gathering his pride and trying to make himself look taller. He was about at my cheek bones anyway, but next to his skinny friend and myself he looked no taller than a third year. “We’re sixth years, our curfew is later!”

“One in the morning is the sixth year curfew?” Dork asked in mock incredulity, checking her wrist for a watch that wasn’t there. “Goodness you’d think they’d cover that in Prefect meetings, wouldn’t you say, Black?”

“Dork,” I said, pulling my wand out from its inner sheathe.

“I told you not to call me that!” She snapped, turning on me all fire and brimstone in her gaze.

“ _Confundo!”_ I took her by the shoulder and pointed her away from the future spawn. “You alright?”

She blinked in the moonlight, dazed. “W-what?”

“Patrols over. You said meet back at the common room?”

She snorted derisively. “Whatever, I’m going straight to bed—Good night.”

Dork walked away slightly tipsy until she remembered how to walk properly and stalked out of sight. I turned on the two Slytherins who stared back at me in mistrust. “What did you do that for..?”

“So we can talk plainly,” I waved my hand. “She’ll be fine. Now—when are two from?”

“Excuse me?” Draco replied, curling his lip. “What in the name of Salazar—“

Theo cut him off with a simple, “How did you know?”

“I know Lian.” Three words that changed the ugly expressions and thoughts they were sending my way into ones of wonder and and surprise.

“I told you she’d been traveling without us!” Draco hissed, tapping Theo’s arm.

“Well maybe—which brings me to my original question: _when_ are you from?” As they hesitated, I focused on Theo’s memory. He had shored up defenses against this action, but getting past them was as easy as opening a door when there was only a second year resisting on the other side.

_I was looking in on the Slytherin common room, I assumed, because it was a common room type place and I saw only Slytherins, including Theo and Draco, plus a girl with short dark hair, green eyes and ruby lips. Theo was pacing back and forth, fiddling with a silver ring he wore on his right hand._

_The girl with the lips spoke from where she was lounging gracefully. “Calm down, Theodore, it’s just a date.”_

_“No it isn’t—she’s only going because she wants to meet the Weird Sisters.” Theo’s voice was tense, just like the rest of him. “She doesn’t even have to go—I’d buy the stupid band for her if she wants them that badly—to agree go anywhere with_ him _.”_

_“It’s only Slughorn’s office, and it’s not like he’s going to corner her—even if he did you know she’d probably punch him.” Draco said lazily._

_“I don’t know why she would,” the lips said. “Werewolf or no, Quince is a ten; I’d let him corner me any day.”_

_“Why aren’t you up there helping Daphne?” Draco asked before Theo could snap at her._

_“Conflicting opinions on how to do her hair, and those Greengrasses are not to be trifled with when there’s make-up involved.”_

_“Make-up? There’s no need for-“ Theo’s voice died in his throat as a young woman entered the room, wearing midnight blue dress robes with a complicated looking plait falling over one shoulder. The last time I’d seen her she’d been stressed and serious and afraid of leaving—the version of Jules I saw in the memory was proud and beautiful. Even if I had no effect on what transpired, I felt protective instincts kicking in._

_“Don’t stare, it’s just me,” Jules said, her American accent breaking the silence that had fallen._

_“Maybe, but an hour ago you had knots in your hair and smudges of dust and ash everywhere from your Alchemy homework,” the girl with the lips remarked. “Now you look like a high class, well-educated lady.”_

_“Is that what this look is?” Jules looked down at herself, her arms raising at awkward angles as she twisted and turned. “Dammit Daphne.”_

_A girl with blonde hair and high cheekbones appeared from behind her, smirking slightly. “You’ll thank me later.”_

_“Don’t hold your breath,” Jules grumbled, striding towards what I presumed to be the exit, though it only looked like a blank stretch of stone. The rest watched her with mixed expressions, but Theo followed after her, tapping her shoulder just before she reached the wall. She halted and turned to look up at him with raised eyebrows. “I know which fork to use, I’m not a heathen...well, yes I am, but still.” And then she stuck her tongue out at him like a child. It ruined the elegant woman facade she’d adorned, but Theo didn’t blink._

_“I don’t like any of this,” he began in a tone that suggested they’d already had this argument and he had lost. “I don’t like him, and I don’t like you when you’re around him.”_

_She rolled her eyes. “I can handle Adam, it’s no big deal. I’m not even going for the ‘pleasure’” (Yup she used air quotes) “of his company, I just want the chance to meet someone I actually respect, you know, before all of this goes up in flames.” Something flickered in her gaze. “Speaking of, you’d better not do anything while I’m gone.”_

_His mouth twitched. “Like you can lecture me about going off on my own.”_

_Jules frowned. “I’m serious, you and Draco stay here until I get back. No going to the room, nothing!”_

_Theo gazed down at her before taking her left hand and placing a silver ring, the one he’d been fiddling with earlier, into her palm. “I want you to wear this tonight.”_

_She blinked down at it blankly, put off by the sudden switch in conversation I imagined. “Why?”_

_“You put up a good struggle against Daphne, since you aren’t wearing earrings or bracelets or whatever but I know the type of people Slughorn surrounds himself with and no one, not even the Weird Sisters, will look at you or treat you the way you deserve unless you have proof you belong there too.”_

_Jules held up the ring to her eyes, appraising it curiously. “And this will do that how?” I was surprised she didn’t say something to the effect of ‘I don’t care what they think of me’, or something but apparently she trusted Theo. And then I remembered why. She tapped the rune, which was the only engraving the ring had to bare. “What’s this mean?”_

_Theo took the ring and slid it onto her left index finger. “Just make sure they see it, and you’ll be fine.” Then, as though it was the most natural thing in the world, he pressed his lips to her knuckles. Jules pulled her hand away quickly, which gave me to know that Theo had never done that to her before. There was a tense moment where I silently hoped she would slap him, but instead she simply turned and walked through the wall like a phantom._

With a jolt I pulled out from Theodore Nott’s mind, catching only half of what Draco Malfoy was saying to me.

“...to be frank, is the more important question.” He finished with a sneer, gazing up at me with his silvery eyes flashing in all dignity and dislike—classic signs of a spoiled pureblood whose honor had been called into question. I should know—those words alone described half of the family that raised me. Theo was rubbing at his head and staring at me through dark blue eyes, while I returned his confusion with simmered hostility. Seeming to notice the change in both of us, Draco cleared his throat. “What just happened?”

“I don’t know who is teaching you Occlumency,” I said, directing the comment to both of them. “But you might wanna try paying better attention, because that was pathetic.”

“You were in my mind?” Theo demanded, his confusion blossoming into anger.

“Well what do you expect, when it was locked up and protected like a Gringotts vault,” I replied sarcastically. I guess I should have tempered the new and sudden anger I was aiming at Nott, but I couldn’t help it after what I’d just witnessed in his memory. Lian probably had no idea what the tiny exchange even meant—but I was raised in Nott’s world, and my normally dormant protective instincts were shooting off in every direction. Before I could give him a piece of my mind and probably expose more than I was supposed to, Draco raised a his old question, the one I hadn’t heard.

“Are you going to answer me? Who are you and how did you know we weren’t from this time? That girl—“ he pointed to where Dork had vanished minutes ago. “She called you Black—you’re not Sirius or Regulus are you?” I noticed he was frowning at my Ravenclaw robes as he asked, seeming to know I was not a son of Walburga without my saying so.

“My name is-“ I hesitated. Draco was asking for my lineage with my identity, it was written all over his face and the way he stood. While I now identified as Roman, my true name, I had a feeling that the Black family wouldn’t recognize my decision. If I was to prove my connection to this time, regardless of whether they were Lian’s allies or not, I should tell them my false, adoptive name. “Pollux R. Black, I’m Alphard’s son.” I wasn’t sure why I felt prompted to highlight my father in this context—except that Malfoy seemed to have an insiders understanding of the Black bloodline. The instant I revealed those names he both straightened and relaxed, and I knew I had said the right thing.

“How did you meet Lian, then?” Nott asked, reminding me that I was very cross with him at the moment.

Swallowing my seething dislike I replied, “Actually I’ve seen all three of you before, four years ago for me, possibly five months I estimate for you.”

Malfoy got there first. “You were getting attacked by the werewolf that night.” _Yep and now I’ve run and played with that very same werewolf. We’re basically best friends._ “But we didn’t talk to you directly then—how could you possibly remember and recognize us from then?”

“Well she came back, and we crossed paths.” I admitted without thinking. The look that was being given to me by either Slytherin was one of complete shock. Then Malfoy smacked Nott’s arm again.

“Stoppit!”

“I told you!”

“I know!”

It was then I remembered how Lian had turned up—bloodied and broken, ready to die in a blaze of glory. These boys had been sneaking around while my sister had been at a party—which meant that their version of Lian hadn’t been thrown back in time to me yet, but she would in a few months.

“What was she doing here?” Nott demanded.

“She didn’t do it on purpose,” I answered evasively. “She left as soon as she could.” _Ya know, after getting to the bottom of who the hell I was._

“You seem to know a lot about it,” Draco commented.

“Well she appeared right in front of me when it happened, I’d have to be blind and deaf to not notice that.” I suddenly worried that they would question her about it the moment they got back to the future and added, “I don’t think she’s left yet, in your time, if that helps. You’re coming from December, right? She turned up in June.” I figured if I lied about the month they wouldn’t try to change it in time.

Either way they seemed to calm down, slightly...until I addressed the elephant in the room. “So why have you two used a time-turner on your own? What were you hoping to achieve?”

“Wouldn’t telling you wreck the future or something?” Nott inquired, and I couldn’t tell if he was being sardonic or not.

“Wouldn’t coming back here and squishing the wrong beetle wreck the future or something?” I replied, mimicking his tone.

Draco sniggered, ignoring the dirty look Nott sent his way. “What year is it?”

“1856,” I lied without batting an eyelid, enjoying the expressions of alarm that crossed the Slytherin faces. I wanted to wait and see if either of them would wet themselves or something equally embarrassing but when it became apparent that they were in complete control of their facilities I said, “Nah, it’s 1975.”

“Great, so we can’t trust you is what you’re communicating,” said Nott, starting to back down the corridor. He had the audacity to point his wand at me, and what with his poorly protected mind wide open to me I knew he was going to try and modify my memory.

(If you’ve been paying attention to my story, you’ll know that’s a bit of a sore spot where I’m concerned.) I only recall the thought _Not again_ passing through my mind before I stunned him. He collapsed against the stone wall and slid to the floor, and I found a ten inch Hawthorne wand shoved in my face.

“What the hell-!” Draco hissed, and I coughed before stunning him as well. If they were going to be idiots about the entire situation, I might as well stow them out of the way until one of them decided to act sensibly. As it was, we’d risked allowing Filch or someone less horrible to stumble upon our non-conversation.

At least the moon was full, or I’d have to worry about Sirius and the rest running around under James’s cloak.

 

\--

 

When his silver eyes snapped open and only saw darkness, Draco’s first thought was that he’d gone blind. Then he remembered he was in the past and encountered a snarky Ravenclaw who claimed to be the lost heir to the Black family fortune--the reason Sirius Black inherited everything instead of someone worthy. With those factors in mind, it was highly possible that he’d been jinxed into believing he was blind. He was hunched over from what he could tell in the dark, something was poking into his back, while something heavy was on his stomach and part of his legs. A wool blanket, perhaps? It was warm, whatever it was and--

“AGH!” he yelped when the blanket moved, lashing out with his knees, which made contact at once, causing the blanket to grunt.

“Dammit Draco…”

“Theo?!”

In a weak voice that told Draco he’d hit a lung, Theo replied, “Nope, it’s Father Christmas. I hear you’ve been a bad boy this year again…”

“Shut up. Are you blind too?”

“Blind? No you idiot, it’s just dark.” Draco heard his old friend scuffling around to his right, and seconds later several rods hit him in the face. “Whoops.”

“What the hell??”

“I think we’re in a broom closet,” Theo said, stating some of the few words that could make Draco bounce to his feet and scramble to find the exit. After stepping in a bucket, knocking over more brooms and elbowing Theo in the ribs, his hands fumbled on the latch and pushed, nearly tripping into the brightly lit corridor.

Turning on the spot to get his bearings, his right foot clunking in the bucket until he gained the sense to kick it off, Draco cursed the Ravenclaw Black under his breath as he searched his robes for his wand, only to discover that he didn’t have it. “Theo, get your wand!”

Theo patted his robe pockets, a perplexed expression on his face. “Uh… Black must’ve taken it when he dumped our bodies…” He checked again and swore loudly. “And that’s not the only thing he swiped.”

“The hourglass?” Draco clenched his fists. He didn’t even need to see Theo’s confirming nod to know it was true. _Well shit_ _._ “Do you think we’ll be able to blend in with classes?”

“Maybe if we were in Hufflepuff but someone’s bound to notice us in Slytherin, specially if your dad’s as big of a deal as you always claimed.”

Draco hated admitting when Theo was right, which was difficult because he was normally never wrong. In these situations he opted to say nothing in response, but Theo’d picked up on what his silence had meant years back. It still gave his old friend a slight twitch on the corner of his mouth. He’d seen pictures of his father at this age and the similarities didn’t stop with the chin and the hair; Draco could have been his clone had he not inherited the Black family eyes. His mothers eyes…

A firm hand clasped Draco’s shoulder unexpectedly, and he whirled on the spot to come face to face with Black. This time the silver eyes held inquiries and calculations, mixed with a sharp glint Draco recognized but couldn’t name. “...You two shouldn’t be out in the open like this.”

 

—

 

I’d told myself I’d check on them before breakfast, which turned into after, which was pushed until break, but it was only during lunch where I seized the chance to check the broom closet where I’d left the Slytherins from the future. In taking their wands I’d hoped that once awake they’d exercise caution and stay put. But when I found the closet empty I was reminded that _caution_ was a word not likely in either’s diction, given that for all I knew they travelled through time willy-nilly.

I searched the surrounding hallways and classrooms, wondering where in the castle they might have gone. I knew at least they were still here—the Hawthorne and Ash wands were still very much in my possession. I was beginning to think they must’ve been caught by a teacher or worse Dumbledore and was headed for the staff room when a hand grabbed my arm and began dragging me towards the seventh floor corridor.

I looked down to see familiar black curls and a stern expression. “What’s up, Reg?”

“You’re the only one who won’t laugh,” he mumbled, pulling me to the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, and I began to realize why.

“How do you know about this room?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

Regulus shrugged. “Found it.” Clearly there was more to that story, but what was making me itch with curiosity is what he intended to show me. And hopefully I could see it, not judge, and find those losers from the future and give Nott a few threats before my next class. _Hey whaddya know, I’m turning into an optimist._

The mysterious room revealed itself and Reg pulled me inside after him, where inside I saw the room had been turned into...his bedroom back at Grimmauld place, if with slightly more floor space. I guess the magical room was reflecting itself into my cousin’s safe place. The appearance of the room wasn’t the focal point though, what was alarming to me was finding Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott sitting near the fireplace—now that wasn’t a reflection of my cousins room, that must’ve been added. I mean, it was November after all.

Regulus began to speak before I could ask questions. “I found them blundering around this morning on my way to breakfast, and they refuse to admit what they’re doing pretending to be students and I didn’t know who to tell or what to believe so I locked them in here until I could figure it out. They’re not in Ravenclaw, are they? Playing some elaborate prank? But the stitching on their robes is different and—“ he stopped to breathe, giving Draco an opening to demand I return their wands in a manner I’m not even going to bother repeating.

“You can have them back when I get the answers I asked for, thank you very much,” I answered grimly, crossing my arms and gazing evenly at the future boys. Regulus frowned at me then at them and back again.

“Wait, are they in Ravenclaw then?”

“No.”

“Of course not.”

“Ugh.”

Three responses given at the exact same time, without hesitation or apology.

“How do you know them, then?” Reg asked, ignoring them and speaking directly to me.

_That’s easy, I first overheard them shouting at each other back when I was getting attacked by a werewolf in my first year—you remember Remus, right? And then I saw them again in my long-lost sisters mind when she dropped in over the summer for a quick visit—she’s really sassy, you’d like her. But they turned up last night with no explanation as to why and that’s when I decided to stuff them in the broom closet._

As much fun as that would be to say aloud, I went with, “Dork and I caught them out after hours last night.”

“So you shoved them in a broom closet?” Reg sounded skeptical and amused.

“Being a Prefect has its perks, I’m not going to lie.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” _Am not._ “The truth if you don’t mind.”

I caught Theo shaking his head warningly. If it had been Draco, I might have listened, but I hated Theodore Nott in that moment so I said, “They’re from the future. 21-22 years to be exact.”

If I expected a dramatic gasp, a fainting fit or splutters of disbelief—I’d have been talking to Peter or even Sirius. Regulus simply said, “Ah. That’s why he looks like Cissy,” pointing to Draco.

Something clunked into place in my mind and I snapped my fingers. “That’s what was bugging me, thank you!”

“Excuse me. What happened to keeping the future safe from total collapse?” Draco was glaring at me, his pale cheeks flooding with color. Clearly he didn’t like us calling his mother ‘Cissy’.

I shrugged, speaking my mind because honestly, in any case: “Traveling here at all kinda shot that horse in the mouth, didn’t it?”

“Whatever just return our wands and the time-turner and we’ll be on our way.”  Theo stepped forward, his hand extended, expecting me to grant his wish immediately I suppose.

“I didn’t take your time-turner.” I said plainly, despite the dirty look I was giving Nott. Given I was trying to figure out how to lay my hands on one from this time, I’m pretty certain I’d recall swiping one off of my sisters poorly chosen associates.

“Don’t lie.”

Regulus inserted himself between me and the other two. “He’s not lying.” The fact that he was willing to vouch for me without knowing the half of what was going on was heartening somewhat. “You probably dropped it.”

“No chance, we had it right up until he jinxed us!” Draco insisted.

“I never saw it.” I commented, even wracking my own memory to be certain that was a true statement. An object of that much value, pretty sure I’d notice it falling out of a hand, or pocket and hitting the floor. Oh Merlin, what if it had broken?

“Are you certain?” Reg asked, a challenge hidden somewhere in his drawl. “If you’d researched anything about time-turners you’d know that after they imprint on a specific user they tend to stay in the time of that user—no matter who tries to use them. If you’re here and the hourglass is not—you probably stole it from the true owner, and now you both will be trapped in the past as punishment.”

He spoke with such confidence and without pause that I was afraid to question his facts. I’d never heard anything of the sort—but it was spooky enough to make sense. If these two had used Jules’s Blood-Turner—it could have banished them and remained in the future… but then how were they supposed to return and keep the timeline in tact? My sister hadn’t mentioned anything about her two minions vanishing halfway through the school year, never to return.

“That’s impossible!” Draco was arguing, insisting that he’d never heard of a loyal time-turner. Regulus remained passive aggressive as the contentions grew between himself and the future. I tried to listen but the general cacophony of it all was sounding like a broken record now.

At length, Nott decided to be the rational one and said, “Alright, let’s say it’s possible the time-turner we tried to use without its owner's permission is back in our original time: what does that mean for us? Is our time here temporary or are we truly stuck?”

“Temporary, if I’ve a say in it.” I replied without thinking, didn’t need to. The longer I thought about it the more it made sense. I mean, I was on the search for the Blood-Turner in my time anyway; why not pick up the pace and send them home? There was only one hitch…

“And how exactly would you have a say in anything?” Draco demanded, his face still pink from shouting at Regulus like a child.

Reg glanced up at me, one eyebrow quirked up in a similar question. Though I sensed he was wondering _why_ rather than _how_.

“How could I not? I think you’re forgetting that I’m quite possibly the one person in this castle who is on your side,” I answered Draco Malfoy, trying to keep my voice level but it was difficult. He was everything I tried to avoid in other people, and all the alarms in my brain were going off. That, coupled with the intense dislike planted in my soul for Nott Jr. had me asking myself over again why bother helping them at all.

The answer was of course Lian, my sister, and the need to keep the timeline as stable as possible. Without my having to say it, Theo and Draco seemed to remember my connection with her as well and stopped trying to tell Regulus and I how little we knew.

Ten minutes later, Regulus and I were in the hallway, both very late to our different classes but with very little motivation to actually turn up at that point. Malfoy and Nott had agreed to wait in the mysterious room on the seventh floor, so long as we brought them food because apparently that was the one thing the room couldn’t create. It made me wonder how Jules had fed herself that entire time she’d hidden there but I’d have to save that question for another time.

“So...do I get an explanation or do you plan on keeping me in the dark, too?” Reg asked after a long stretch of silence.

I was hoping he’d be content with whatever information he’d already been given, but I should have known better. I couldn’t lie, but the way he’d added ‘ _too_ ’, accusingly, told me that he had enough people in his life hiding things from him. And he had just gone out of his way to back me up and hide those idiots. Still, I had to be careful…

“What would you like to know?”

“Anything you wouldn’t dare tell my mother.” Regulus grinned darkly at the look I sent his way, before adding, “I mean, whatever you can say, if they were serious about using a time-turner and what you said about them being from the future.”

I sighed. “Everything you heard in there from me is the absolute truth.”

Reg nodded. “I know, but I also know that you’re holding something back and that’s what I’m curious about.”

 _Well in that case let me tell you about my secret-long-lost-twin-sister-from-the-future._ I gazed at him in quiet consideration. We never spoke this much while at school in the past, though I used to call him my favorite cousin. (He was always less dangerous than Sirius, and he’d never given me a bloody nose on purpose.) But before I could come to a decision of how much I’d reveal, Regulus began to snicker.

“Of course you’re too clever to tell me everything right away. I guess I’ll have to stick around and earn that kind of trust.”

“Indeed,” I replied, hiding my relief. “Good on you for recognizing that.”

“I mean,” Reg cleared his throat and pushed a few stray hairs out of his eyes. “If you had been willing to tell me everything, without my being fully interested or invested, I could just as easily regurgitate the information in my common room. It’d be all over the school by tonight.”

In that moment I had a feeling of doubt towards my cousin; could I really trust him or would he somehow turn against me? It was too late to take back all that he’d heard—and if I tried to make him forget that’d only make things worse. But then, he didn’t have to stand up for me, or argue with them. And what he’d said about the time-turner turning on them… I had to ask.

“How do you know so much about time-turners?”

Regulus scoffed softly. “Some of us go to the library to _read_ , not get help on our homework assignments from girls. You might try cracking open a book every so often, Pol--sorry, it’s Roman now, isn’t it?”

I exhaled, trying to stave a grin off my face. “Yeah, something like that. Only, call me Pollux in front of those guys, alright?”

Regulus nodded without demanding further explanation, and just like that we both accepted that we were in this strange situation together, wherever it would lead us.

So much for enjoying a quiet fifth year at school. Taking into account the three guys I’d have to either trust or keep a close eye on, I told myself it was only temporary. Just take care of this issue and then I could return to my solace. How hard could it be to find a Blood-Turner anyway?

Looking back, I wish I’d gone forward with a better, more practical mindset because the truth was I’d never be alone again. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I swear to you all, I am going to finish this story if it kills me.


	18. Crow

**** “Mr. Black!” Professor McGonagall’s sharp voice fell upon the class like the crack of a whip. “Kindly pay attention or I shall put you in detention!”

_ Like that’ll teach him a lesson,  _ Remus thought, copying the points on the blackboard into his notebook.  _ Detention is basically his second home. _

“Apologies, Professor,” Black replied, but it wasn’t Sirius’s cheerful tone as Remus had anticipated. He turned his head so swiftly he cricked his neck, unable to believe his ears but unable to deny his eyes. Lux-- _ no, Roman, _ \--was sitting at the back of the class, his nose buried in a dusty old book that definitely had nothing to do with Transfiguration. Remus couldn’t even recognize the language or runes on the cover. He hated himself for thinking it, but it looked like a book on Dark Magic… “But I’ve already completed the assignment you’re about to assign and I don’t think my listening to whatever point you’re trying to make will change my perspective.”

A few people gasped, and from where they were sitting behind Remus, Sirius and James exchanged looks of stunned pride. As for Professor McGonagall, her nostrils were flared and lips thinner than Remus had ever seen them. Instead of shouting up a storm, her next words were calm, but as deadly as could be. “See me after class, Mr. Black.”

She resumed the lecture, and from what Remus could tell, Roman resumed reading his tome and cared not for the blazing anger their Transfiguration teacher was reserving for him. He glanced back at his friend whenever he dared, and at one point he heard Sirius mutter to James, “I have never been so honored to be related to him!”

Only to have James reply, “Be sure to mention that during his eulogy.”

“I shall write sonnet after sonnet for him after this day.”

“Potter! Black!” McGonagall barked as she passed their desk. 

Remus wished he could have bet on what would happen next, he’d like to hold a galleon or two in his hands before the next Hogsmeade trip. Sirius sat back in his chair, gazing up at the already sour-tempered woman and said, “Now, now, Minnie, after all we’ve been through together don’t you think surnames are a little old fashioned? I’d like you to call me Siri.”

“Stay after class with your cousin, Mr. Black,” the Professor growled.

“What!” Remus covered his eyes with his hands as James jumped to his feet, knocking his chair over. It wasn’t as though they had done anything wrong, they just liked being dramatic. “Minnie I thought we agreed you wouldn’t show favouritism towards him anymore, not when we’re basically meant for each other!” he held up his arms as if to embrace the deputy headmistress. “I’m all you need in this cruel world!”

Before she could say or do anything to the poor fool, the bell rang and anyone who didn’t want to get turned into a frog or a bedpan grabbed their things and dashed out of the classroom. 

Remus himself had to pull Peter away, who was caught between stammering something that would land him in trouble and being frozen in fear of saying it to the irate Transfiguration teacher. Just as they were crossing the threshold, he heard Sirius say, “Wonderful. Kick these two out and we can finally be alo—ow!”

He released Peter to enjoy his free period, whereas he had to dash away to barely make it to Care of Magical Creatures. Professor Kettleburn gave him a stern look as he panted beside Lily and Mary, but said no rebuke as he began the lesson on hippogriffs. 

The cold December air seemed to shred his lungs as Remus attempted to catch his breath, and though he tried to listen to the professor and gaze at the magnificent creatures with interest and wonder, his plans to pay attention were upset by Mary tugging at his sleeve. “What’s gotten into Lux?”

Lily shushed her. “Do we have to talk about this now? We should be listening, this’ll probably turn up in our OWLs.”

“What happened?” Alice Fortescue of Hufflepuff had shuffled over to them, clutching her wool cloak tightly around her thin shoulders. “What’s wrong with Roman?”

“Who?” Mary sneezed.

They all looked at her in mild surprise. “That’s what he’s been telling everyone to call him now,” Remus explained. “I think it’s his middle name.”

“‘Bout time too, Roman is much better a name than Pollux.” Alice commented, squinting at the chestnut hippogriff Professor Kettleburn was feeding. “He’s different these days though. I’ve wanted to talk to him about it but I think he’s avoiding me.”

“No one’s avoiding you, Alice,” Mary said confidently. “Maybe when you’ve got your hands tangled with Longbottom, but honestly, who can blame them.”

Alice blushed and did not reply, giving Lily another chance to tell them all to be quiet. “I don’t know about you lot but I’d really like to do well this year so if you could just have this discussion later-”

Mary scoffed. “Ye say ‘this year’ like ye haven’t had roaring successes in our past years. I’m surprised ya weren’t sitting beside Lux, finishing the essays before McGonagall could dish ‘em out right’n proper.”

“To be fair, that landed him in detention,” Remus reminded her, but she shook her head stubbornly.

“Ya can’t get detention for doing the work; it was only because he let his mouth run free that he got into trouble.”

“And wasn’t even paying attention to the lesson, like you three are making me do right now!” Lily hissed, trying desperately to take notes as Kettleburn talked, but a glance over her shoulder told Remus that she would learn exactly nothing about hippogriffs from the scribbles she was leaving across her parchment. “Of course his cousin and Potter couldn’t let him mouth off alone. It’s like they’re addicted to being in trouble.”

Remus had been wondering about James and Sirius’s sudden outburst and while it wasn’t the first time they’d addressed a teacher by their first name, especially McGonagall, it wasn’t as though it had been on a dare to get into trouble or in the middle of a prank. Maybe they threw in their lots because they were showboating, or maybe there was an ulterior motive…

“If the vein in McGonagall’s neck hadn’t been popping out more than usual,” Mary was saying under her breath, trying to continue without upsetting Lily. “I’d have tried to get detention as well--I miss talking to Lux.”

“You could try conventional methods like starting a conversation during free period.” Alice muttered in reply. “And you’d better call him Roman.”

“I’ll call that  bastard whatever I want until he looks me in the eye and says otherwise,” Mary growled back. “And if I could find him during free period I would have already.” She sighed and added, “Maybe  _ I’m _ the one he’s avoiding.”

“Speaking objectively,” Lily whispered, not taking her eyes off the lesson that she would never be able to fully listen to now. “Roman’s been avoiding just about everyone lately. I’ve seen him talk to his cousin a few times but nothing more. Dorcas Meadowes isn’t exactly fond of him or anyone so talking to her is a bust. He’s either hiding something or he’s just decided he doesn’t like people anymore.”

Remus coughed to hide a chuckle. “Speaking matter-of-factly, Roman has always disliked other people, though there was a select few-” he glanced between Alice and Mary before continuing, “-that snuck past his walls. But I haven’t seen him talk to Sirius in almost two months, when did you-?”

Lily shook her head. “I didn’t say he was with Sirius. What’s the younger one’s name? The Slytherin?”

“Regulus?” Remus only knew the name because he could never forget how Sirius behaved the day his younger brother got sorted. A Slytherin he may be, but it was the first time Remus had seen Sirius look utterly delighted, simply because the hat hesitated.

_ “I’m telling you,” _ Sirius had sworn for days after the event.  _ “If our mother hadn’t been grilling him all summer to be sorted into Slytherin to save the family’s reputation, he’d have been in Gryffindor! _ ”

“Yes him,” Lily nodded. “I’ve seen them together quite a bit in the last week.” She cleared her throat and hurried to explain, “I only noticed because he used to run around with you and Potter, but that seems to have stopped. Did you all get into an argument or something?” 

_So much for trying to pay attention,_ Remus thought dryly. “Not that I’m aware of,” he replied softly. Now that he thought about it. Roman hadn’t really been around since that first full moon back in September. _Oh Merlin,_ _what if I bit him?_ He wondered, horrified at the prospect. _And he’s upset with me because now he turns into a werepanther?_

“...track him down at dinner and give him a piece of my  bloody mind.” Mary was saying by the time he began listening again. 

“I don’t see why you’re upset with him  _ now, _ he’s been treating you the same since the start of term.” Alice chided her, a knowing glint in her gaze that made Remus both curious and afraid. “Unless…”

“Unless what?” Mary snapped. 

“Pay attention, you four in the back!” Professor Kettleburn’s wheezy voice interrupted them. “This is very important stuff, you know.”

As the irate Mary Macdonald turned to reply, Remus dearly wished he’d selected a different group to stand with that cold December afternoon. 

It seemed they would be joining the cousins Black and James in detention after all. 

 

—

 

I’d predicted detention the moment I mouthed off to McGonagall. No wait, that’s a lie: I’d expected to be dead by dinner. Just as well, because not only would I be spending the evening in the kitchens with about a thousand furious and judgemental house elves glaring at me, no, Sirius and James decided to throw their hats into the ring as well. And then—wonder of wonders, by the time I climbed into the hidden kitchen, I found about four extra people waiting around the deputy headmistress. My stomach performed an unpleasant kind of flop as my gaze passed over Mary’s short blonde hair. Remus I could understand, maybe, but what in the world were the girls doing there?

“Decided to join us at last, Mr. Black?” McGonagall said curtly. “Your instructions are thus—“

_ Straight to business then _ . I looked on in silence as she began to outline our punishment. I knew what it was already because common sense, it was all over the forefront of her mind, and oh yeah, the enormous mountain of filthy, golden dishes hanging out by the sink. A year ago I’d have joined in with James, Sirius, Alice and Mary in a chorus of bewilderment and indignation after the pronouncement. Dishes were house elf work, or a simple enchantment would set things right. To set a bunch of teenagers to clean them without the use of any kind of magic was downright cruel and unusual. 

But now I looked at the mountain of dishes and could only imagine the moment back at the estate’s kitchen with my sister, as she scrubbed, rinsed, dried and sorted automatically without pause or complaint.  _ “Helps me think,” _ she’d told me. 

“Come on then,” Lily said briskly, rolling up her sleeves. I blinked and looked around to see McGonagall leaving through the sea of angry elves all watching us. Apparently she felt, and I was in no position to argue, that we were well monitored without her personal supervision. “It won’t finish itself!”

Sirius muttered something immature under his breath causing James to laugh loudly. Lily ignored them, turning on the rest. 

Alice and Mary mimicked her action of rolling up their sleeves, gazing blankly at the dishes like they’d never seen anything like them before. Remus stood beside his friends, apparently hesitant to anything on his own in this scenario. I removed my school robe, revealing the muggle clothes I wore beneath, and moved past the girls to grab the soap off the shelf where a house elf must’ve thought was an ace hiding place. I took the first plate and ran the water, starting to work as my sister would have had she been in my shoes. I could actually feel a connection to her in that way until Lily stood at my elbow and grabbed a goblet and scrubber. 

“Good idea, bringing casuals,” she told me, glancing over my t-shirt and trousers. “You expected some kind of grunt work didn’t you.”

I nodded mutely, that much was obvious. The rest fell in alongside Lily, awkwardly scrubbing and reaching for towels until Remus suggested we form a line, three on washing, two on rinsing and two on sorting. This turned to three, one and three soon after Alice realized neither she nor Mary could reach the high shelves, and Remus left rinsing to help. 

I supposed they thought they were working in relative silence, other than Sirius’s loud banter with James about absurd things as usual—but in my perspective it was the loudest room I’d ever stepped foot in. I could hear the frustration and concern flushing through every house elf that was either baking or glaring at our backsides, but in all their numbers they were white noise compared to the thoughts of my old friends. Mary’s mind was a storm of swear words her father used when he was in a temper, and anger fueled questions I had no interest trying to fathom. Alice was calm on the outside but inside she was working herself into a ball of stress over things that were frankly none of her business. Lily was fuming at having to be there at all when in her mind she had done nothing wrong. Remus was telling himself to keep quiet over and over again and for Merlin’s beard Sirius and James said everything they were thinking aloud so it was like hearing them in stereo and I’m not even sure what that meant only that I’d probably picked it up in Jules mind. 

Jules. Her warning about not letting myself dive too deeply into the minds of others came crashing down on me and I tried to focus on that specific memory to block out all else as I washed dish after dish.  

I would have been content to stay like that until we were through. 

Apparently, I was outnumbered. 

Surprisingly it was James who broke the ice. “Roman, while I have never been more proud of my strange, Ravenclaw son—“

“I’m not your son,” I coughed, giving him a confused glance as he’d never called me that before. 

Unhindered, he said, “I’ve never seen you mouth off to a teacher without a plan to avoid detention. I’m curious: what changed?”

I shrugged again, not trusting myself to speak. A week had passed since Draco and Theo fell into my life, and sneaking extra scraps off of the dining tables was becoming a bit of a hassle for both myself and Regulus. This afternoon in Transfiguration I’d caught a snippet of McGonagall’s thoughts--she’d just dished out a detention for some third years and was regretting sending them to the trophy room instead of the kitchens. I’d never thought about trying to sneak food from the source before, so I knew I had to figure out where to go, and getting into to trouble was the fastest and easiest option. 

So of course having an audience, (and an inquisitive one at that) was very inconvenient. I suppose I shouldn’t have expected any better from my cousin and James—detention was basically playtime at this point. But I still couldn’t wrap my head around the girls being there. Remus was neutral territory at best. 

I reached for another platter which had been host to a chocolate massacre by the looks of it, when I realized that I was the only one working. A quick glance revealed that they were all watching me, apparently expecting me to speak. As I turned to keep cleaning, Mary broke the silence. 

“Pollux R Black you drop that dish right now!” 

I wrinkled my brow as I looked over at her, slowly dragging the scrubber across the chocolate stains. I guess in her world I’d just provoked her  or possibly flipped her off . Whatever the case, she saw fit to charge at me like an enraged erumpent. 

I waited until the very last second before attempting to dodge out of the way. She used some kind of feint and caught me anyway and tried to hit me. I caught her wrists and held her at arm's length, having little to no desire to get beat by a girl much less a Scot. We struggled for a few awkward seconds until I twisted her around and pinned her back to my front. 

“Let me go! Let me—“ she tried to stomp on my foot, luckily her mind was practically transparent to me at this point. We hopped around the kitchens whilst I cast around for a solution and Mary tried to kill me. I knew she wasn’t upset over anything that had happened in the last five minutes, no this anger was borne from a festering disgruntlement she’d been nursing for quite sometime now. She exhausted herself thrashing and stomping about though her body still shook in my grasp and it was several moments I realized she was crying. 

I released her immediately, never sure what the proper protocol was for when girls faces started to leak, and Alice and Lily ran forward to check on her. I didn’t want to look at or talk to anyone, nor did I want to be looked at or spoken with but alas there was nowhere for me to go. 

“Are you alright, Mary?” Remus asked, shuffling his feet nervously from where he stood by James and Sirius near the sink. 

Mary hiccuped and nodded, still shaking. 

“Are you sure?” The words escaped my lips before I could stop them. Seconds later I felt pain breaking out all across my jaw as Mary’s fist made contact, faster than thought or comprehension. I made a curse worthy of my sister, staggering away from Mary and almost stepped on a house elf. I can say with conviction that the Scottish she-demon would have struck again if not for James and Sirius holding her back. I stood tall facing the group, the people I’d come to call friends and in certain times family. “What  the actual **** is wrong with you all?” 

Alice tried to placate me, as always trying to make everyone see things on a broader perspective. “We’re worried about you! You know Mary doesn’t handle emotions very well—she’s punched my arm so often I have a permanent bruise but I know it’s because she cares! If you don’t open up and trust your friends what are we supposed to think while you close yourself off—and don’t deny it either, we know somethings wrong!”

If there was any moment where I could open up to my friends, the time would be now. 

I swallowed. “You’d never believe me…” 

Sirius scoffed. “Roman, mate, of all the people in this room, I’d believe you the most.” 

The statement caused James to look offended for all of twelve seconds before he agreed. “You and Sirius are basically brothers to me; you being the older, grouchy but clever brother that I never expected to want...”

“You’ve never turned your back on me,” Remus said solemnly. “How shallow of a friend do you think I am?”

“You’ve always been there for Mary and I,” Alice chipped in, while Mary nodded still trying to gain control over herself. 

Even Lily, whom I’d never been rude to but not necessarily gone out of my way to know better, said, “In all our time as classmates you’ve never been cruel. You could have been, easy—everyone expected you to be,”  _ Probably heard that from Snape _ . “But I’ve always thought of you as someone who could be trusted. I’d hope that you could view me in the same respect.”

James nearly slipped on a puddle of soap trying to lean into her view. “I’d trust you with anything, Evans!” 

Lily ignored him with a small roll of her eyes while the rest chuckled or groaned. “Not really the point, Prongs,” said Sirius. 

I took a deep breath, gazing around at them all as I tried to imagine what it would be like to confide in them. I liked them much more than Draco and Theo. Of course if I told them I’d almost be obliged to tell Reg, and I still wasn’t so sure about how much he’d keep hidden. 

My head felt like someone was twisting a stake into my temple, and they were all watching me with intent concern on their faces. I wished for a simple solution, a cure-all, a way they could be satisfied without being told the truth. But the fact remained that I had no access to any such solution. I was listless and couldn’t think of anything to say without being bold as usual. Why had it been so easy to tell Regulus and why was it bordering on traumatizing at the very idea of telling my friends?

_ Jules never told anyone _ , my conscious whispered annoyingly.  _ Not everything, anyway.  _

_ But Jules secluded herself in doing so, leading an entirely secret mission out while everyone around her was none the wiser, _ I argued back.  _ I’ve been cutting myself off from these guys for a few months and it’s been  _ _ hell.  _ _ The childhood I remember was lonely, I’ll be  _ _ damned  _ _ if I return to that now.  _

That’s when I decided...

I held up my hands in surrender. “Okay look, the truth is…” I faltered. I wish I had more time to think this all through, rather than a sudden statement I could never take back. Should I start with my returned memories? Or with my twin sister? “The uh, truth is…” I swallowed. No wonder I hadn’t told Regulus much, I had no idea where to begin or how much of it I knew myself. 

“Yes..?” Alice prompted, trying to be gentle and hide her anticipation but of course she failed. They all did. I wasn’t sure any of them were actually breathing as they waited on enlightenment. Or gossip. Or both. 

“I can’t say,” I held up a hand as they all began to protest or complain. “I can’t say knowing that any of you might repeat it to anyone else. And I’m certainly not saying it in front of a thousand witnesses.”

“They don’t care about your problems they have to get ready for breakfast!” Sirius whined, waving a hand carelessly over the elves. “Come on, Pooky,” I glared at him for referencing the pathetic nickname he and James tried to brand me with. “Where are you going to find a better, more supportive group?”

Thinking of my birth family, I heard my voice boldly declare, “New York.”

“What  the hell ’s in New York?” Mary demanded. 

_ Presently? _ “My parents.”

Sirius frowned. “What are you talking about? Your mother’s been dead for eleven years, and Uncle hates America.”

_ Only because as far as he knew my American family had abandoned me _ . “Well...I’m not talking about Sylvia and Alphard… my real parents names are Amaya and David.”

Lily tilted her head, brow furrowed. “You’re adopted?” 

I nodded, and decided rather than play subject to their surge of questions it’d be faster to answer all at once. It wasn’t as though I could guess what they were thinking.  _ Oh wait _ . “I was taken from my parents at a young age and found alone and lost by Alphard, soon after the death of his own son, Pollux. They tried to find my family to return me but after two painful years they decided to raise me until my real family came to claim me. And then Sylvia died, and all Alphard and I had in the world was each other. In an attempt to give me a normal childhood, Alphard suppressed my memories of my kidnapping and for several years no one knew the wiser. For all intents and purposes I was sired, raised, and destined to be an heir of the Black family. But a wrench was thrown in the plan, so to speak. That girl who turned up half-dead after our Astronomy lesson last  March , she turned my entire world, as perfect and fake as it was, upside-down.”

“She disappeared,” Mary insisted. 

“On my broom,” James added. 

“She came back. To find me.” I took a deep breath before launching into the next part. “She’d deduced that I’d taken something of hers—which I had, though I didn’t fully understand its purpose then. The night she appeared I’d found a silver hourglass on the floor and kept it on my person. She tracked, well actually hunted would be more accurate, but the point is she found me, confronted me, and…” I paused, not sure how to proceed.  _ Long story short, she’s my twin sister! Crazy, right?  _ “Through a more advanced magic than I’d ever dreamed possible she saw through me, through my life, and picked at the suppressed memories until the dam burst revealing to myself the truth. Over the summer I confronted Alphard and have decided that while I will remain here, and finish school or whatever my eventual hope is to find my real parents in New York one day.” 

Revealing that the half-dead girl was my sister seemed a bit much, but as I waited for the unbelief or incredulity from my friends, I began to wonder if I’d crossed the line back when I’d said  _ for all intents and purposes _ . But as a moment’s pause stretched into a long, awkward silence I realized that nobody was moving or even drawing breath. That led me to realize that  _ I  _ couldn’t move and wasn’t sure if my heart was technically beating. 

_ What in the world— _

From where I’d discarded my school robe I saw a faint blue pulse that grew in circumference until eventually it washed over the mountain of dishes, the horde of house elves, my frozen friends and finally over me. Instantly I felt pulled in every direction and heard millions of voices, saw thousands of days that had yet to pass, and felt endless droves of emotional and physical exhaustion. 

_ What magic is this?! _

**Finally** . If I hadn’t been frozen in a single moment I’d probably have done something awful like scream. The voice was deep yet the tone sounded impatient like its owner had never learned how to smile.  **He’s asking the right questions!**

_ What the  _ _ f— _

**Easy kid, there’s no need for that now. All I need from you is realization that you have never been, nor will ever be in control. Can ya do that for me?**

_ What? No, who are you? What  _ _ the hell  _ _ is happening right now why am I frozen? _

The voice gave an annoyed sigh. It sounded American, but was rough and spoke with a certain slang I didn’t recognize. Jules would’ve known, she always knew. 

**I do not answer to the likes of you, Kid. Say it with me: “I am not in control.”**

_ Why? _

**Humor me.**

_ I am not in control.  _

**Ya didn’t mean it but I’ll take it for now. Enjoy ya trip.**

_ My what? _

**Trip. Buh-bye!**

_ Wait-! _

There was another pulse of light and suddenly the kitchen, the elves and my friends vanished. I had to blink several times before I could comprehend what I was looking upon. Slowly, Sirius’s boldly Gryffindor decorations came into focus and I saw my cousin tossing everything he owned into a rucksack, his school trunk already packed even though the calendar on the wall indicated that it was only July. I could hear Walburga’s screams of dishonor and filth echoing from the lounge five floors below. As he finished packing he glanced back and seemed to gaze directly at me. 

_ “You could come with me, you know.” _

_ “I know. But I have to stay, for Reg and for dad.”  _ My voice replied. 

He nodded.  _ “Look after him for me.” _ And then he was gone. 

The scene faded and I was standing in the Great Hall during what had to be graduation. I spotted James and Lily holding hands, and saw Snape glaring at them from where he stood beside Reg, and several other Slytherins I’d never liked. Avery and Mulciber being a few. 

I was standing on a rocky outcrop and could hear the ocean’s roar. Reg stood at my side, Kreacher the house elf at his heel. 

_ “You sure this is the place?” _ Regulus asked the elf. 

_ “It’s here alright, _ ” my voice answered. 

_ “How do you know?” _

_ “You can taste the dark magic from here. _ ”

I was sitting at a table in the Leaky Cauldron, a half drunk bottle of Firewhiskey staring at me while all around me the pub was celebrating something that sounded like  _ The Boy Who Lived _ …

And then I was on a bus full of muggles, watching three kids squashed into a seat watching the busy city outside. The oldest was a girl with burning brown eyes and messy hair the color of dark honey. On her lap was another girl who couldn’t have been older than 3 or 4, with flyaway hair and beside them both a boy with bright blue eyes and a red shirt that read  _ Spider-man _ across the front. 

_ “Is it this one, Jules?”  _ The boy asked as the bus lurched to a stop and muggles began to depart or climb on. 

_ “Two more. Remember Daddy works on Rivington,” _ Little Jules replied, and I noticed she had one arm pinning our younger sister to her stomach, and her free hand was gripping our younger brother’s hand firmly. Her wide brown eyes flitted from muggle to muggle suspiciously as though she expected one of them to charge. She couldn’t have been older than eight. 

I was standing on the edge of a mountain, the fog permeated by a single lantern being waved high over the head of an eleven year old girl as she called down through the darkened slope. 

I stood at the edge of what was closely related to a Quidditch pitch without hoops, gazing up at twenty broomsticks as they soared, dodged and whizzed this way and that, passing a quaffle looking thing that seemed to be ticking. A girl with a long braid caught and cradled it between her ankles as she zoomed up the field towards a pot on a pole. 

I watched a boy with wild black hair and emerald green eyes jumping around a sitting room as he attempted to catch one out of a million envelopes shooting out of every window, door and down the chimney as his parents or guardians screamed bloody murder. 

I watched a familiar shaggy black dog haul itself out of a raging, dark sea, turning a weary and hateful eye back towards a lonely structure far away on an island. 

I watched a milk white body climb out of a cauldron. 

I watched my sister get sorted into Slytherin. 

I watched something of a small army of Hogwarts students dueling in a large room, practicing both basic and advanced spells. 

I watched a toad faced woman shrieking at a thousand enchanted fireworks. 

I heard screams of insane glee and cries of outrage or agony. I couldn’t really tell...I wasn’t sure I wanted to know…

I watched my sister jump in front of a man with wild eyes, taking a spell that was not intended for her. I watched her right arm…

I spotted a peaceful moment out on the Hogwarts grounds by the lakeside. 

And then back into growing darkness etched with chaos. I watched villains rise and heroes fall. The scenes were switching faster than I could possibly keep track of: I was seeing everything and nothing. And then right there at the end, a bright light that filled me with more hope than I’d ever known...

**This is the future** , the cranky husk of a voice rang through my ears.  **The one that’s worth fighting for...however…**

With a sudden lurch I landed on all fours, my limbs trembling as I raised my head to understand what I was looking at: I was on a battleground littered with bodies. A sudden jolt ran through my skeleton as I began to recognize my friends among the carnage. Sirius, Remus, James, Mary, Frank and Alice, even Dork, and so many more. In the distance I spotted through a blur—distantly recognizing that  _ my _ face was leaking—a tall man surrounded by an innumerable hoard, all in black robes. I saw several members of the Black family prominent among them, and many Slytherins I’d seen in class over the years. Snape stood, holding the hand of a girl on her knees, head bowed in sorrow as her shoulders shook. A second later I realized it was Lily Evans. The man at the front, the one with the cruel eyes, he pointed his wand at me, and shot a stream of green light over my shoulder. I turned in time to watch it strike my father, Alphard, in the chest. 

I screamed. 

 

...standing back in the kitchen, though it was devoid of my friends, dishes or even the elves, I was alone with a strange voice echoing in my ears. 

**You gotta work with me kid. Or that last image is gonna take over the entire future.**

_ Who are you? What did I just witness? _

**Call me Crow. You just saw the future in fast-forward, both the one that needs to happen, and the one that you could have caused.**

_ What are you talking about? How would I be the cause of everyone’s death? _

**By telling them who you are. Telling them everything they know is a lie. Basically, you can’t tell a soul what’s really going on, Kid.**

_ I don’t even know what’s going on! _

**Great. So keeping your lip shut should be a cinch.**

_ But I already told them the truth about me… _

**No. I only let you explore that option—terrific speech by the way, ill-timed but nice and heavy. Hit me right in da chest cavity. Fortunately, they didn’t hear a thing. Ready to do this scene correctly?**

_ No? _

**Here we go!**

A flash of blue and... “Okay look, the truth is…” I faltered. I wish I had more time to think this all through, rather than a sudden statement I could never take back.  _ Wait a second! _

Everyone was looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to unveil whatever was bothering and changing me. But I couldn’t tell them this time. 

“The truth is friendships and socialization are not my first priority, and none of you should expect me to report on whatever  shit  I’m dealing with in my own time. Now. If you all don’t mind, I’m going to do the detention as laid out by our dear deputy headmistress.” 

I pushed past James and Remus, returning to the sink. As I scrubbed chocolate off the large golden platter I heard Crow’s voice in my head. 

**Huh. Not bad, Kid. Maybe you’re not hopeless after all.**

_ Give me one reason I should listen to you.  _

**After everything you still doubt me?**

_ Yes.  _

**Kid, if you set the future askew by one detail, your sister will die young, and both of the people you care about the most in this world will die.**

_ … _

**Do we have an understanding?**

_ Yes.  _


	19. Will the New Voice in my Head Please Shut Up

 

Detention came to a merciful end just before midnight. The others fell back into the pattern of work after the awkward interruption, and soon enough James and Sirius were cracking jokes with Remus for everyone’s entertainment. Whether or not they believed my earlier statement, they didn’t seem perturbed in anyway. If Lily’s mind was any indication, clearly I was under a lot of pressure and needed space before I could be friendly again.

I reached the bronze eagle knocker at long last, my arms heavy and hands pruny from too much hot water and soap. I think the eagle head took pity on me because when I knocked the handle thrice it wheezed, “ _What gets wetter the more it dries?”_

“A towel,” I yawned, stumbling inside. The open room with its high windows and astral paintings was still host to some night owls working on homework or in a specific case crying by the fireplace.

After what had just occurred with Mary I had little desire to know what was making that stranger leak, but Crow had other plans.

**Leaving her to rot alone could have disastrous consequences.**

_I don’t even know her, what on earth kind of influence could I bring on her life?_

**Do ya believe in soulmates?**

_I’m going to bed._

**Okay that was a joke but seriously she’s as miserable as you feel go see what’s going on.**

I ignored him and began to climb the stairs to bed but he persisted to demand that I return to the common room. Only when I was within jumping distance of my four-poster bed did I relent, turning on my heel and marching back down to the fireplace.

The girl was still sitting alone but she was no longer crying, instead I found her writing furiously across a journal. I took a seat on the settee, gazing into the fire all the while not entirely sure what I was supposed to do next.

**Talk to her.**

_Why._

**She’s clearly unhinged,** Crow replied, and I hoped he was being sarcastic given what he said next. **Gotta make sure she’s not a threat to the school, and if she is it’s your responsibility to report her and whatnot.**

 _Great._ Clearing my throat, I looked over at the girl, and found she was already staring at me. The fact that I’d caught her in the act did not seem to bother her, which only made me wonder what caused her eyes to be all red and puffy if she was not overly sensitive as a person. “Hi.”

“Why are you in muggle clothes?” She asked, gesturing at my casual clothing.

“I had detention in the kitchens,” I replied honestly. “I’ve never seen so many enraged house elves before in my life.”

She gave a wet guffaw. “What was your punishment, bathing them?”

“Close,” I shrugged. “They might have preferred that to being forced to sit back and watch us wash the dishes for them.”

Her arched eyebrows shot right up her forehead. “No kidding? Ouch.”

I grimaced. “What are you writing?”

She blinked and glanced at her journal before shoving it at me, showing me a list of names from our House. Some of them had marks next to them, whilst others had scratches over their letters like she’d changed her mind after scribing them. I didn’t see my name anywhere on it—either of them, but Roy’s had been scribbled out quite a few times.

“You’re making a hit list?” I guessed, trying to be funny.

“Basically,” came the non-comforting reply. She pulled it back and gazed at the names. “I’ve decided it’s time for some changes to the line up.”

“Oh?” I wasn’t entirely certain what she was talking about and was afraid that Crow was right and she was dangerous. “What makes this your decision?”

She blinked at me. “I’m the captain. What I say goes and I’m not-” I released a sigh of relief and exasperation when I realized she was talking about Quidditch not mass murder. “-suffering through another game like yesterday, so help me Rowena.”

“Is that what you were crying about? Quidditch?” I bit my tongue, instantly regretting my decision to speak.

The girl leered at me before asking in an icy voice. “What was your name?”

“Roman.”

She bowed her head and wrote my name at the end of her list. Then, she promptly crossed it out. “Clearly you don’t understand a thing about Quidditch so if you wouldn’t mind shutting up I have a lot to think about.”

“Who’s on the team right now?” I asked, though I had a few suspicions already based on the number of scratched out names.

“Walthom, Smith, Bogarty, Lockhart, Hadley and Perth,” she said, her quill tapping the crossed out names as I’d expected. “Most of our House forgot Quidditch tryouts were even being held this year what with the last Captain only playing his friends for six years straight.” That was true, it was also one of the main reasons I never bothered supporting Ravenclaw in the Quidditch cup. And from what I’d heard this year so far our team was rather lackluster. I zoned back in when I recognized the girl was still talking. “I’ve wanted to play since my first year but never had the chance to tryout and then Flitwick finally chooses me as captain and I get stuck with the worst team because they’re the only ones who turned up. Lockhart talks big but he’s a complete idiot on a broom seriously the worst Seeker I’ve ever seen in my life.” She released a frustrated exhale.

After a pause, I said, “Well, anyone who has shared a room with him for four years could have told you that…”

She looked up at me as if to say ‘You’re still here?’, but when my words sunk in she deflated a little. “I don’t suppose you know of anyone who’s secretly an avid and highly skilled Quidditch player who’d want to join the team halfway through the year?”

**Don’t you fly or something?**

_Nope._

**You know I can see the future, right?**

_Nope._

**C’mon-!**

_Not in a million years._

**Careful now…**

“No, I’m afraid not,” I replied, ignoring Crow’s derisive grunt.

“Are you sure?” She pressed, shoving her absurd list back in my face. “None of the names stand out to you?”

I glanced at my name which had been scratched over and shrugged. “Sorry.”

Sighing, she closed the book with a snap. “Yes I suppose it was a bit of a long shot but-“ she stopped abruptly, both of us turning to face the door to the tower as someone on the other side pounded upon its surface.

The eagle head's voice could be heard, “ _What is broken every time it’s spoken?”_

And the knocker’s frustrated reply, “I don’t give a damn! Open this door!”

“Poor sod,” the girl muttered to no one in particular. “Probably a first year.”

It was true that the younger years typically found themselves out after hours, and couldn’t guess the answer to the door so more often than not the early breakfast goers had to stumble over a student or two on their way down the stairs.

I often wondered about the people who stayed up late enough to hear the stragglers, and what kind of sick joy they gleaned from not lifting a finger to help.

Now, I _was_ one of those night owls and kinda understood the sick joy in knowing that I had gotten through no problem while whomever was struggling. It made me feel superior in intellect, a thing Ravenclaw’s tended to thrive on.

However, I couldn’t feel too superior, because I knew for a fact that that voice did not belong to a Ravenclaw. Wondering what on earth _he_ was doing on this end of the castle, I stride over to the door and opened it enough to stick my head out. “Reg?”

My youngest cousin stood there looking up at me, his fist raised to bang upon the door yet again, sides heaving as though he’d run the length of the castle and back before skipping up the spiral staircase to say Goodnight. “They’re gone!” he said in a breathless voice.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, caught off-guard.

“I snuck off to the 7th floor after dinner and they weren’t inside. You were in detention so I searched round the floors and all the hiding places I know of and I’m telling you they’re not in the castle.” Reg explained all of this in an undertone, probably expecting some unwanted eavesdroppers on the other side of the door.

“It’s past midnight,” I pointed out. “You’ve been searching this entire time?”

“It’s a big castle. And as a Slytherin, I can tell you there’s only so many places two sixth years can hide.” He lifted his school robe to reveal the family house elf, Kreacher, practically hugging his leg. “He’ll second that.”

“Well, where would they go?” I asked, rubbing my head as it began to ache with the added weight of new information.

“My guess is they grew weary of waiting for you or I to find a way to return them home and took matters into their own hands,” Reg theorized, starting to regain control over his breath.

“Why would you think that?” I asked sarcastically. Draco had only spoken in passive aggressive statements to us since that first day. _Haven’t found a time-turner yet? What a shock. How about asking the Unspeakables if you can borrow one-_ “Oh shit.” I gasped, the pieces finally clicking together in my head.

“What?”

“I know where they are, or rather where they’re going to be.”

“Yeah?”

I cleared my throat. “Yeah. How long would it take them to arrive at the Ministry?”

“Depending on whether they flew or floo,” Reg replied his eyes widening. “Anywhere from a minute to a few hours.”

“Wonderful.” I stepped out onto the spiral stairs, closing the door to the common room behind me. “Good thinking by the way, calling Kreacher for backup.”

“Why would they go to the Ministry?” Reg asked.

“Your dad works in the Department of Mysteries, right?”

“Recreationally, yes.”

“And he can’t talk about what goes on in there, right?”

“Yeah, that’s why they’re called Unspeakables.” I waited, because Reg had been with me when Draco had been passively complaining. He was almost as observant as I; I was confident he’d remember. A few heartbeats later and he did, smacking my arm as the realization struck. “Well that’s it then, they’ll just go on back to whenever they came from and out of our hair.”

 **Not quite**. I winced, nearly forgetting about Crow in all this.

_Now what?_

Instantly a vision of Draco and Theo being brought before the Wizengamot for stealing from the Ministry popped into my head and I groaned. After earlier in the kitchens, I was aware that this was Crow’s way of hinting heavily that I wasn’t supposed to let that happen. We weren’t in the clear yet.

“Can I borrow Kreacher?”

“If you’re going after them I’m coming with you.”

“That’s the complete opposite of stealth,” I began, catching sight of the stubborn protest building in my cousins mind and quickly amended: “But that’s fine.”

Kreacher leered up at me but extended a hand to grip my jeans, his other still clutching Regulus’s leg. With a loud _CRACK_ , the spiral stairs and the bronze eagle head knocker vanished. They were replaced with a dark room filled with clocks, shelves lined with hourglasses of every shape, size and color, several chairs and desks and a bell shaped jar in the center that contained glowing water. I stared up at the Time-Turners trying to spot the one my sister used, one with reddish sands and a pointed tip.

“Uh, Roman?”

“Hmm.”

“Roman.”

I turned to look at my cousin, finding the glowing water reflecting in his eyes—it kinda made him look inhuman for a moment. “What?”

“Look at this.” He was staring at the jar, or more accurately what was _in_ the jar. I spotted an egg floating at the bottom, then it rose up cracks forming in its shell until it burst and fell away to reveal a baby bird. Then the bird began to fall to the bottom of the jar and the egg shell formed around it again so by the time it hit the bottom it was a simple egg once more.

 **I hate this place**. Crow grumbled in my mind.

_Nobody asked you._

“Well that’s minorly disturbing,” I said, turning away from the repeating life cycle of an avian. “What’s more bothersome is—“

One of the doors around the room opened and two people entered the room, one with silvery blond hair and the other with dark brunette, whom I hated with every particle of my person. They must’ve seen our dark silhouettes from the glowing water and froze, but not before pointing their wands at us. (I instantly regretted returning those.)

“ _Stupef-_ “ Draco began to cast but Reg turned his wand out and disarmed him at once.

“Really?” I said dryly. “After all we’ve been through, you run to the government for help?”

“They’re starting to sound more like Gryffindors or Hufflepuffs,” Regulus commented, his wand trained calmly on Theo.

“How did you beat us here?!” Draco demanded.

“Forget that, how did you even know we’d come here, of all places?” Theo asked, his eyes wide in the glow of the bell jar.

“It’s very simple,” Reg shrugged. “You see we, unlike you two, pay attention to our surroundings, and we, unlike you two, remember unique and curious happenstances so we, unlike you two, can run circles around gits like you all day.”

“Basically you talk too much, Malfoy,” I added, as the blond turned red with anger or embarrassment I couldn’t be sure.

“Still, you couldn’t have gotten past us—“ Theo’s eyes landed on Kreacher. Mumbling a few choice words under his breath he said aloud, “Dammit Malfoy I _told_ you.”

“Shut up!”

“If they came through the usual way this late,” Reg said suddenly, as though only just recalling this detail. “Then an alarm probably sounded and there should be someone on their way here.”

“We didn’t hear anything,” Theo insisted.

“Quiet you, the adults are talking.” I looked at my cousin. “Are you sure?”

Reg nodded. “Sirius has always wanted to pull a prank at dads work but there’s a reason it’s so protected, even when everyone’s supposed to be home. The aurors alone never stop-“

To confirm what he was saying almost, we all heard movement coming from the room's beyond this one.

“Kreacher take them back to the castle, now,” I said in a rush, pointing at Draco and Theo. If anyone was going to get caught six hundred leagues under the Ministry it could not be the delorean and it’s hook-up trailer. (Yet another reference I’m pretty sure came from Lian’s brain.)

With a nod from Regulus and a few curses of protest from Malfoy, the three of them disappeared. The oncomers had to be right outside the door now.

**Hide your cousin. He shouldn’t be here.**

_What about me?_

**You’re expendable.** **_Disillio!_ **

I tapped Reg on the head with my wand, “ _Disillio!”_ At once his hair, skin, and robes changed color and texture to match those behind him. I grabbed what I hoped was his collar and dragged him over to the far wall. “Stay here. Kreacher will come back for you.”

“And you-“

“No, they know someone broke in. So they won’t be satisfied until someone is caught.”

“But-“

The door through which Draco and Theo had marched through banged open and I pushed off the wall, grabbing a Time-Turner off the shelf and put on the pretense of figuring out how to use it.

“Drop the hourglass!” A deep voice boomed, and a second later I’d been stunned and I remember falling to the floor face first. I don’t remember much else…

 

—

 

There were several ways the morning _could_ have gone, but spewing pumpkin juice across the table was not exactly how Remus pictured breakfast time. Only it wasn’t an attempt to be funny, it was an honest to Merlin reaction to something improbable.

James and Sirius tussling on the floor in the dormitory, that was probable. Peter running back to the tower halfway down to breakfast because he’d forgotten his homework, that was probable. James gazing at Lily Evans and commenting loudly on how the December morning made all ginger’s stand out more than usual, that was imbecilic, but still very probable.

Opening a copy of the daily prophet and being greeted with a familiar face, not so much. But there it was.

It was a small article, but it featured a headshot of a boy with pale eyes and long hair. The expression displayed was so arrogant Remus almost forgot he wasn’t in Slytherin. But how was it possible? They’d all been stuck in the kitchens til late last night, when could the offense have possibly taken place? Unless…

Remus raised his head to scan the Ravenclaw table, his stomach dropping a bit when he couldn’t find his friend.

“Moony, if you don’t like Pumpkin juice just drink tea in the mornings,” Sirius was saying as he wiped juice off his robes.

“What? Oh sorry mate, but look at this--” Remus shoved the article under Sirius’s nose. “This must’ve gone down last night.”

“‘Ollivander wands are the best in Northern Europe, hand crafted and-” Sirius read aloud in a slightly bewildered tone. “Moony if you don’t have a wand how the blazes have you gotten this far?”

“Not that-!” he said impatiently as a couple people sniggered. Brandishing the paper he read in a tone only Sirius, James and Peter could hear.

**Hogwarts Student, a Break-in Most Mysterious**

_At approximately 12:21 am, the Ministry’s security spells were triggered as a young man trespassed upon its lower, forbidden levels. He was seized by two aurors and questioned thoroughly by Nathaniel Diggle, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement._

_The intruder, Roman Black, is midway through his 5th year at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry, though for this seemingly random offense the Headmaster has decided that he will be suspended from school until the New Year._

_No statements from the department head, the Headmaster, or the student in question have been given._

 

Remus broke off as Sirius snatched the paper back and glared down at the small article. “Suspended? What did he even do?”

“Other than breaking into a high security government building without a reason, I have no idea,” James chipped in, chewing his bacon. “Still, 12:21am? We all finished detention at 11:30pm, how in the name of Merlin did he skip on down to London in less than an hour?”

“He could have apparated,” Peter suggested.

“No you can’t apparate in and out of Hogwarts,” said Remus shaking his head. “Or use a portkey. Maybe he used floo powder.”

“Why, though?” Sirius demanded to no one in particular. “He’s making less and less sense as time goes on.”

“Ah, talking about Roman again, are we?” Mary arrived and squeezed between Peter and James. “Let’s change the subject to more pleasant things like Quidditch.”

Remus, Sirius and James exchanged a silent look, remembering her emotional break-down the night before and mutually agreed to not mention the Ministry Mystery. Sirius folded the newspaper and stowed it away in his bag as he, James and Mary began planning tactics and trainings for the renewal of Quidditch season come late February-early March.

Just a table over Regulus Black was gazing at the same article, feeling a mixture of relief and guilt. By all rights he should’ve been caught and suspended as well, but he hadn’t a clue how to undo the Disillusionment spell until he’d found the counterspell in the library around 3 o’clock in the morning. He hadn’t slept, having been in the hidden room arguing with the brattish Malfoy who was apparently his 2nd cousin or something. And then, before his very eyes, both of them had disappeared. No sound, no indication of magic being cast though that was clearly the only way they could have vanished without a trace, but he’d dragged himself into his imitation bed and lay there until he couldn’t bear it any longer. After discovering his cousin’s fate in the paper, he got up from the table and made his way to the owlery to send a message to Roman. After everything, he should know that their efforts were for nothing, and the future versions of Malfoy and Nott were gone at last.

 _Or…_ Regulus paused, foot comically in the air as another, faster idea occurred to him. “Kreacher?”

With a loud CRACK the withered house-elf appeared at his side. “Yes, Master Regulus?”

“Could you take me to the estate, please?”

Kreacher nodded his head solemnly. “Of course, Master.” After taking Regulus’s hand there was another loud CRACK and next thing he knew they were standing in Uncle Alphard’s office. The man in question was seated at his desk, and cousin Roman was seated across from him, slumped down about as far as he could be without disappearing into the cushion.

“Regulus,” Alphard said calmly, as though expecting his nephew to suddenly pop in. “I don’t believe this is your Herbology class, or am I to expect several dozens of 14 year olds running about my gardens?”

“Don’t tell my mum,” Reg pleaded, before turning on his cousin. “I had to talk to you.”

“Ooh,” Alphard chuckled. “Would this have anything to do with my sudden guests in the sitting room?”

Roman groaned. “This is all entirely blown out of proportion. Just let me talk to them-“

“What guests?” Reg asked, his brain starting to pound against his skull, loaded with questions.

“Draco and Theodore—they just turned up an hour ago,” Roman replied, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“First that Lian girl and now them,” Alphard chirped, and Reg couldn’t tell if he was resigned or resentful. “How many more strangers will breach my home, I wonder?”

 _Lian?_ Reg wondered, but didn’t dare press his luck. The fact that he hadn’t been returned to Hogwarts already was a miracle enough. He’d get it out of Roman later, anyway. “Maybe instead of wondering, you could end the issue here and now.”

“That’s the thing,” Alphard pointed at Roman. “I thought I’d fixed this problem over the summer. New security measures, but then you like breaking through security spells, don’t you?” He tapped a copy of _the Daily Prophet_ from where it rested on his desk.

Regulus realized with a jolt that Alphard was angry, but after being raised by Orion and Walburga, his Uncle’s version of anger was muted to the point where he could hardly tell. His cousin was already shaking his head in response. “I just told you, I didn’t break into the Ministry for a laugh, I was trying to catch the two now held captive by Kipsy.”

At his feet, Kreacher’s ears perked up slightly at the mention of the she-elf. Roman bit his tongue to maintain his neutral expression.

“I can sort all of this out I promise, I only need 5 minutes with them.” Roman was speaking with a kind of assurance that Regulus both admired and doubted. As an underage wizard, who had just been suspended from school, what kind of power did he possess that his own father, a powerful and fully-fledged warlock, did not already command?

Alphard seemed to be thinking along the same lines, but rather than refuse the request, like Reg would’ve expected, he relented with a sigh. Roman almost tripped in his haste to leave the room, but when Regulus went to follow him, Alphard cleared his throat. “I don’t think he meant you, Regulus.”

Giving his uncle a respectful nod, Reg said about the most disrespectful thing he’d ever uttered to a member of his own family. And then followed after his cousin.

 

\--

 

_You haven’t answered my question._

**Which one?**

_ALL OF THEM!_

**Sucks to be you.**

I walked into the sitting room and my eyes fell upon an unusual but altogether not unexpected scene, Regulus at my heel. We gazed at Draco and Theodore, seated in hard-backed chairs and bound back-to-back by thick ropes. Kipsy was standing on Draco’s legs, stuffing Alphard’s old socks into his mouth, or she had been before getting caught. She froze, her round eyes slowly turning to look at me, and allowed an awkward silence to stretch.

“Master Alphard said to keep them contained, Master Pollux,” she squeaked at last. Draco attempted to spit the old socks out but with a swift jab Kipsy kept them in place, causing the former to gag. “This one does not know how to keep his pudding hole quiet. Kipsy improvised.”

I jerked my head at Theo, who was gagless but watching our every move carefully. “What about him?”

Kipsy shrugged. “Once Kipsy pulled out the dirty laundry, that one suddenly has much less to say.” She glanced at Regulus and then looked down at Kreacher with a grin. “Speaking of dirty laundry…”

I snorted, but there would be time for jokes later. I hoped.

**There’s always time for jokes, I outta know.**

_Shut up._

“Let them loose, Kipsy,” I commanded, much to the house elf’s disappointment.

“But Kipsy was going to string them upside-down from the-”

“Now.”

Kipsy sighed. Then with a snap of her brindled fingers, the chairs, socks, and ropes were gone and Draco was gagging over the cold fire place while Theo gazed evenly at me. “Why did you stop us?”

“Because I care about the future.”

“As do I, and I very much care that I return to it faster than your non-existent time table would dictate!” This being one of the only times Theodore raised his voice, I hesitated before replying. I’d always found that if someone was about to shout, hearing only silence in reply made them realize how foolish they were being. _Damn_ _,_ _I really am a Ravenclaw. Oh well._

“You would have been caught by the Ministry, and the future you so dearly want to run back to would have been altered in ways nobody could predict.” I said in a firm, no-nonsense tone. _I’m a Ravenclaw AND I’m turning into Alphard. Wonderful._

“How could you possibly know we would get caught?” Draco wheezed from the fireplace.

**Cheat sheet.**

“Instead of questioning my logic, a simple ‘thank you’ would be appropriate.” I said, trying to gloss over the question. Crow had been in my head all of 48 hours give or take--I was having trouble keeping track, which on some level felt ironic--and I still had no idea what he was doing in there, much less how he could know and threaten all the things he had. But that was a battle I’d have to pick up later, for now I had two very irate guys that hadn’t been born yet to appease or at least calm.

_Wow. I hate my life._

**It’s better than most, Kid.**

_That’s severely depressing._

**Welcome to life!**

“After you lock us up in the Room of Requirement and forget about us, words of gratitude will be the last things to escape my throat and be aimed in your direction!” _How did my sister stand this guy?_ I stared at Draco Malfoy, a small frown bending my lips as the blond straightened to his full height and moved to stand beside Theodore. Together they looked every bit the part of two brooding angsty types wanting to fight the world. (And, given the marks on their forearms, that wasn’t far from the truth.)

“That place is called the Room of Requirement?” Regulus muttered under his breath, reminding me that he was still in the room.

“We hardly forgot about you, every free moment was spent making sure you were alive!” I fired back, thinking of all the mealtimes we’d cut short to run upto the seventh floor before classes.

“And absolutely no time was put into an idea of sending us home where we belong!” Theo snapped, unfortunately hitting the nail on the head. I still hadn’t confronted him about the trick he’d pulled on Jules, and the inner conflict had never been released either, so when the uppity little prick spoke to me that way, some inner cord that had kept my composure together thus far split in half.

I think Crow sensed this because his gravelly voice muttered, **Uh oh…**

I’d already been suspended from school, so what the hell.

I drew my wand and fired a stinging hex at Theo’s chest. Draco drew his own but before the spell to disarm me could escape his lips or mind, I’d sent a tripping jinx his way.

The only thing that saved either of them from being cursed into last week, which would have been the opposite of the desired results, was Reg’s hand on my wand arm, pulling until it pointed towards the dark carpet. He said nothing, knowing his action against me spoke volumes. He was not necessarily protecting our 2nd cousin and his friend, as a matter of fact I would later learn that he was protecting me, from a side of myself I wasn’t equipped to face then.

I wouldn’t have known how to proceed from that point. I had no way to get them home and out of my life, from where I was standing. I’d saved the future by ruining their only plan to get out of the past and now we were all at odds with each other. My next move would’ve been something foolish or brash, starting with punching Theodore in the mouth. Maybe if he was missing a few teeth my sister wouldn’t look his way ever again.

Fortunately for my sanity and Nott’s incisors, what happened next was not entirely up to me.

**You forgot about it, didn’t you.**

_Forgot about what?_

The bodiless voice exhaled, and if he had eyes I imagined them rolling back. **Your inner pocket. Now.**

Frowning, I reached into my school robe (I hadn’t changed since dashing off to the Ministry, getting caught, cross-examined by too many authorities, and then interrogated by my adopted father. There was the inside sleeve where a lot of students, myself included, liked to stow their wands. After my last growth spurt, I’d requested another inner pocket on a whimsy--actually I’d hidden snacks in there because some days the mealtimes were too far apart for my stomach’s liking. My hand found a smooth, rounded surface, and just like that I remembered that strange morning after the full moon, way back in September.

I’d thought the elf had been something of a dream or my imagination. I didn’t even remember putting the strange orb in my pocket, but I must’ve been carrying it with me wherever I went for the past three months. I hoped the withered, wrinkled elf had no way of keeping track of me, because I also remembered his disgruntled warning, “ _You mustn’t waste this!_ ” But I had no idea what it was?

The moment the orb was in my hand and out of my pocket I felt a sense of deja vu, as neither Reg, Draco, Theo or Kipsy seemed to be breathing.

_What now?_

**Break it.**

_Do what now?_ I squinted at the glass orb in my grasp, with its swirling blue substance. Whether it was gas, liquid or both was still unclear, and the longer I stared at it the less I wanted to splash it on the carpet.

**Break it.**

_Why?_

**Time is frozen for now, Kid. It can either stay that way or you can do as I ask.**

_You’re not asking, you’ve never asked._

**Semantics. Do as I say, and break the orb now!**

I could have tried to get a straight answer out of him, I could have refused. But even then, just a few hours into my association with Crow, (comparatively,) I sensed that it was better to follow. From the moment he’d started grumbling around in my head, not once did he sound like a person with which to be reasoned.

Holding the glass orb up, I squeezed it against the heel of my hand with my fingers. What I had previously thought to be solid and heavy was suddenly brittle and no stronger than a snowflake. It cracked, then shattered in my hand quite easily, and instead of floating up or splashing on the walls or floor like I’d anticipated, the blue substance spread in a circular horizontal wave until it faded into the air.

Slowly, I opened my hand, expecting to see thousands of tiny cuts from the shards of glass I’d just exposed to my open palm. Instead I saw a strange, metal object.

( _Glancing through my sister’s record, I don’t think she ever fully described exactly what she’d been using, so, allow me._ )

Half of it was a cylinder, carved from crystal or diamond I never knew, through which I detected an hourglass containing colorless grains of sand. The other half… well it looked like a blade. Tiny, but broad given the proportion it had, and through the middle reaching to the point the ornate piece resembled a needle of some kind, feeding back to the crystal cylinder. (Keeping in mind that the entire thing was no larger than the palm of my hand.) It somehow managed to look deadly and delicate all at once.

**If you’d been more invested we could’ve taken care of this all right away but no you had to pretend to have a normal life.**

_Is this..?_ I thought, not daring to believe that it was all _that_ simple. Jules had made it seem like finding it would be difficult, there was no way that it could just fall in my lap.

**A Time-Turner? No.**

I cursed mentally, of course not. Why would my life suddenly be easy after all these years?

**It’s proper name is Αίμα, συγγενής, επιστροφή.**

My face scrunched up in a proper, confused expression. _Say again?_

**I guess it could be called a Blood-Turner in English.**

Chills ran through my entire skeleton as the grouchy, American voice in my head spoke. _Are you serious?_

**Always. Now, you gotta return these two yahoo’s back to late 1996 or there’s gonna be trouble for both of us.**

_Who-_

**Now!**

I almost dropped the BT as I snapped into action. If this was really it, then, it was the beginning of the end, right? I’d start jumping all over time to see my sister, to save her until finally she was ready to turn around and save me, right?

But first, I guess I had to return these two idiots. I took a step forward, slightly stunned that I could move in this odd, frozen moment at all, and then with a few flicks of my wand they were suspended and tied together. All I had to do was simply grab one, rather than attempt to juggle both and the Blood-Turner. It was lucky, I supposed, that I’d hexed both of them into the same general area before time stopped.

Having used the infernal device before, it did not make sense that I used it cautiously now, as though afraid it might explode in my face. As I went to prick my thumb with the needle-like point, Crow shouted in my ear canal.

**What are you doing!**

_It needs blood to work...right?_

**Your thumb ain’t gonna be enough! Go for the inner elbow.**

_What, why?_

**You can tap a vein without draining yourself.**

_Why would it take so much?_

Crow’s intonation in his reply suggested that the answer was obvious. **It’s thirsty.**

I stopped myself from arguing; after all when Jules had given it to me I didn’t have to stab myself to go forward. I wasn’t sure how Crow was associated with the present one's existence but the whole affair was making me feel queasy. Whatever he wasn’t telling me...I’d demand answers later.

Grabbing Theo by the collar of his robes, I held up the Blood-Turner and pierced the inside of my elbow like Crow had suggested. What followed should have alarmed me, but after the events that had fallen in my lap throughout the year of 1975, quite frankly I wasn’t phased. The blade’s needle point drank from my vein greedily, and I imagined I actually felt the cold metal sucking at my arm. Up the needle, into the diamond hourglass, and the instant my blood came into contact with the colorless sands, is when I knew there was absolutely no going back. Rather than filling the hourglass, my blood soaked the sand red at first, then as the entire artifact began to glow with an orange light as though set in a furnace.

For once, Crow and I had the exact same thought before vanishing from that decade.

**_And so it begins…_ **

 

\--

 

The transition from the estate’s sitting room, to an abandoned Hogwarts corridor, was seamless, yet sudden. I’d just been in these halls yesterday, but without having to check a calendar I knew I was 21-22 years in the future.

Draco and Theodore hovered beside me, no longer frozen in a single moment but blinking around in confusion. “What happened?” Draco demanded, struggling against his magical binds. “No more laundry!”

“O-K, he’s delusional…” Theodore shook his head, gazing around the hallway suspiciously. “What are we doing back here?”

I thought this was an odd question coming from the whiny teen who had demanded to be returned to his timeline, but then I supposed he was still disoriented. Which reminded me that I still wanted to knock out his front teeth.

I released them both from the magical bonds, allowing them to stumble around the corridor.

**Wipe their memories.**

I stiffened. _What?!_

**They didn’t effect the past, due to you and your cousin’s efforts, but can’t risk them remembering anything they shouldn’t.**

_I’ve never performed a memory charm before…_

**Are you a Legilimens or not? Ya sister could do it.**

_What do you know about my sister??_

**You’re wasting moonlight, bub.**

I turned and focused on Malfoy first, finding a solid resistance in my mind’s way. They hadn’t been twiddling their thumbs all that time in the Room of Requiem or whatever, that was apparent. My attempts to pierce his mental wall were about as effective as James flirting with Lily.

“What are you-” Theodore began to ask, as I withdrew my wand and aimed it at Malfoy.

“ _Obliviate!_ ”

Draco slumped against the nearest window and slid down to the floor in a heap of blond hair and Slytherin robes. I looked around to see Theodore’s ash in my face, his hand steady but his eyes like ice. “That’s your plan, just wipe us clean and dump us at school for anyone to find? What happened to preserving the future?”

I could tell he was upset, so instead of arguing, I held up the silver hourglass in my hand. His eyes darted between it, the stained blade, and me again, in rapid succession as the pieces fit together.

“I’m still trying to preserve the future, whatever that means,” I said in a calm tone, with no idea how to reassure him that everything was going to be okay and to hold still while I modified his memory.

“When are we?” he demanded, though with a little less bite to his voice now.

_Uh…_

**December 21st, 1996.**

“December 21st, 1996,” I echoed aloud, watching Theo relax. “You’ve only been gone a few days.”

“How did you get that Time-Turner?” he jerked his head at the silver hourglass in my grasp.

“It was given to me.”

“By Lian?”

I tensed, while Crow’s voice sighed heavily. **Get ‘im.**

I snatched Theodore Nott’s wand arm and twisted it in the wrong direction, and held it there as he gasped in pain. “I have seen the inside of your head and I know what you did, shortly before tumbling backwards in time.” I genuinely surprised myself by how cold my voice sounded.

Nott squinted at me, bewildered. “What are you talking about let go of my arm!”

I pulled his arm up, forcing him to stagger closer and bent his arm against his back, locking my hold on him as he faced down the empty passageway. “Don’t be daft. Like you, I was raised by an old family, with old traditions and customs. I know what you did, unlike _her_ , who was raised in a modern home, with equal parts Muggle and Magic.” I applied more pressure to his arm until he cried out. “You leave her alone or I’ll be back to deal with you myself.”

“Why do you care? And what good is your threat if you’re just gonna erase my memory of you?” he challenged, despite the great discomfort he was currently enduring.

“Fair point…” I growled, until a thought struck me. “But I don’t need you to remember me. I just need you to remember the guilt.”

“I don’t feel guilty!”

“You will.”


	20. A Needle

 

I could pinpoint the exact moment dear cousin Bella decided she would be the death of me. New Years Eve, the Ballroom, under the candlelight and amidst the music—time of plotting began: 11:03pm.

It was just my luck that in a crowded room, some unknown deity decided it was fit that I should be scooped up with some of the most vile blood-supremacists known to the wizarding world. I didn’t even want to be there to begin with, but I had been given no choice.

This whole affair started on Boxing Day, when the quiet estate had been invaded by the extended Black family. Cygnus was determined to impress a particular group of people, and demanded that his older brother Alphard assist him in the quest. “Assist” meaning “let me take over your home for a night or two.” Five days later and there we all were—dressed to the nines and on our best behaviors. (Sirius had been trapped in one of the room's upstairs. That was as well-behaved for which Walburga could afford to give him credit.)

Rather than experience pity, I felt envious of my cousin. Better safely tucked away chasing my own tail than stuck with all these people. Most of them were from prominent, pureblood families—like the Sacred 28 for example. Looking around the room with every witch and wizard milling about in their finest robes, you’d think someone was about to be coronated.

I spotted Cygnus and Orion every so often, speaking with patriarchs of the other families, yet always with that same pretentious “my-blood-is-purer-than-your-blood” expression. These sights made me feel sick and eternally grateful I was not actually related to these men.

**Ooh I forgot about this…**

_Forgot what?_

**It’s about to get interesting.**

_Oh I’m sorry if my life was boring before—I’m only 16._

**Quit whining and pay attention to that guy with your cousin.**

_The one with the red eyes?_

**Yep**.

_He looks like a piece of work._

Crow gave a harsh laugh in my ear, but refused to expound, so I was left to meander a bit closer to where Bella and her new husband stood with the red-eyed man.

He was tall, had good posture, and the kind of smile that put you at ease and on edge. His bone structure and stature scream pure blood, making him the exact person I would avoid no questions asked or doubts given. Yet there I was, just close enough to listen without being directly noticed by the group. After a minute or two I noticed how little he spoke, and yet how everyone around him seemed to hang on his every breath.

“...the day soon comes where we won’t have to cower in the shadows…” was not a conversational sentence you heard just anywhere. “The Ministry’s weak argument for the preservation of Muggles, well, once they’ve had a taste of the freedom I hope to achieve, no one will be arguing anymore, it’s as simple as that.”

“You’re absolutely in the right, my Lord,” Cousin Bella said, sounding more like a sycophant than an equal.

I might have made a noise of derision, and that may have drawn the attention to my direction. All I knew for certain was the man with the red eyes was looking directly into my silver ones. “Who is this?” he asked silkily, as though I was incapable of replying.

Bellatrix cricked her neck to look at me, her simpering demeanor quickly melting away to reveal the she-troll she’d always been as a child. “He is no one of import, my Lord, only a child-” her precious ‘Lord’ raised a hand and she fell silent, looking like a wounded animal as the red-eyed man stalked over to where I stood, stuffed into tailored dress robes and wishing to be in animal form, wrestling my rebellious cousin upstairs.

“Who are you?” the man asked, managing to sound intrigued and bored at the same time.

“I am Pollux Roman Black, the son of Alphard and heir to the Black lands and fortunes.” I’ll be honest, I don’t know why I added that last bit, but it was true: Alphard was the oldest and while Bella had been born first- _I_ was the male heir. (Technically it would be Sirius due to the whole adoption thing but so long as the rest of the world believed I had Black blood, it was mine.) Whatever the reason for the impressive introduction falling from my lips, it seemed to be the right call to make. _Depending on your definition of right, admittedly._

The red-eyed man smiled, apparently amused and while his eyes remained unreadable and distant, he extended a hand. Sensing I was being either tested or tricked, I kept my hands at my sides, gazing steadily back at him. I could hear Bella having an aneurysm in the background as I displayed such disrespect to her ‘Lord’. For the stranger himself, he merely chuckled pleasantly. “Such suspicion in one so young, what is the Wizarding world coming to?”

I cocked my head back, quirking an eyebrow at this rhetoric. “I don’t suppose you’ve ever been cautioned against strangers.” I mean, I’d been told to pay attention to him, that didn’t mean I had to buy into whatever he was selling Bella and Rudolphus. Still, I had introduced myself to him in a power-move. Did I subconsciously want him to be impressed or intimidated? It could be attributed to the level of discomfort I was feeling surrounded by all these pure blood snobs, magnified by the truth of being a half-blood.

The red-eyed man was surveying my face, my stance, and over again. He was calculating me as I had done to him before this exchange began. “I should hate to be thought of as a stranger in your mind, Pollux, or is it Roman? I should think the latter, far more fitting.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You dare to address me with familiarity and yet I am left still unaware of your own identity, mister.”

Bella hissed viciously at me. “You ignorant fool! This is Lord V-”

“Bellatrix, your cousin is intriguing in his arrogance.” The red-eyed man cut her off, speaking to her but keeping his scarlet gaze on me. “Fitting for the heir to the Black family. Such purity and such power...fascinating. You’re attending Hogwarts, correct.” I nodded mutely. “What house were you sorted into?”

I could taste his desire for me to say Slytherin before I opened my mouth. _Well, my sister gets into Slytherin 21 years from now-close enough, right?_ “Ravenclaw.”

“He is a disgrace in the eyes of my family,” Bellatrix was only too eager to inject before her ‘lord’ could reply. “He and my other cousin, sorted into the disgusting house of Gryffindor-”

“Bella, if we only associated with those in Slytherin house, the world would never change.” _Oho, we have a philosopher in the house._ “Ravenclaw is a noble house. I would say the choicest students of that house are on par with the greatest of Slytherin.”

If he thought the comparison was going to win me over, he was greatly mistaken. If for nothing else, he still hadn’t answered my question. “As interesting as you think this conversation is, I cannot be so invested while remaining in the dark where your name is concerned.”

The red-eyed man shrugged. “I suppose that’s acceptable.” I could be mistaken, but I think my disrespect was only serving to impress him. I guess I was being tested after all. “I am Lord Voldemort, and it is indeed a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

I experienced a Sirius desire to mock such an obviously fabricated name. I instead brought honor to my house and said, “I find it curious that you should insist on the title ‘Lord’, given that there are no such titles and claims amongst Wizarding kind. For what purpose do you seek to put yourself above all the rest of us?”

There. Right there was when Bella decided I should die at her hand. Her brain imploded with ideas of how I’d meet my sudden, bloody end. Already she was favoring the visage of personally wringing my neck.

Rather than share her ideals of death, Voldemort laughed. “Perceptive one, aren’t you Roman?” He reached out to a house-elf  carrying a large tray of smoking goblets through the assembled crowd. He took a swig, still gazing at me. I was starting to hate his eyes by that point in time. “The world would be a better place if everyone were as clever and quick as you are.”

I coughed. “I’m going to have to disagree with you. A world full of people who thought as I did--I’d sooner wipe them all out.”

Am I wrong? Would most people find that statement unsettling? Or at least morbid? Then, how was this guy still smiling?

“Would you say your way of thinking is above or beneath those around you?” he asked.

“Neither. The way I think is different, but no higher or lower than anyone else’s. I wouldn’t be so foolish as to place my views on a pedestal, under a false title.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to. You’re an intelligent young man, better to let someone else, say me, take the fall.” I was getting a sick feeling in my stomach the more Voldemort spoke. He wasn’t trying to force anything on me, he spoke as though I was already on his side. “But say the world could change. You can’t honestly enjoy having to hide your cleverness and talents from the world at large. The Muggles should hide from us, not the other way around.”

 _But they outnumber us._ “And you would try to change this how?”

Voldemort smirked, tilting his head. “Curious as well…” he mused. “You’re on your way to becoming a powerful wizard. I could help you, you know.” ( _Insert a dramatic gasp from Bellatrix here… honestly you’d think I’d been offered an Order of Merlin, First Class._ )

“Help me? More than the teachers at Hogwarts, you mean?” I asked skeptically, certain this Voldemort was bluffing, simply trying to sound impressive. Then at least he wouldn’t be any different than all the other pretentious fools who tried to bend me to their wills.

“An education at Hogwarts can only get you so far in life. I wouldn’t expect a response for my offer straight away—but do me the courtesy of consideration. That is all I ask.”

 _Well I’m not so sure that I’ll have time to accept given my OWLs are on the rise, the usual studies, I’ve got Prefect duties to pretend to do, and trying to solve just a few of my life’s greatest mysteries—I am one preoccupied student._ “Of course,” I replied lazily, leaning back to appraise this Voldemort once again. He was suave, confident, but off-putting all the same. He wasn’t a blustering buffoon, he was calm and precise in his actions. I’d wager he had the entire evenings events planned out in his head before he stepped foot into the grounds.

At the time I wanted to think I was an outlier—a surprise in his calculations. I wouldn’t discover the truth until much later.  Bella’s ‘lord’ wasn’t there that night for small talk and canopies. He was hunting, and now I was in his sights.

 

* * *

 

I confess, I expected a few interrogations upon my return to school in the New Year. When none arose, rather than relaxing I grew anxious. It wasn’t everyday a classmate got suspended for breaking into the Ministry; where were the inquisitions and nosy busy-bodies? Sirius had kept his distance over the holiday, and the rest of his group of friends, all the Gryffindors and the one Hufflepuff I appreciated all but ignored me. I suppose that was fitting, as I had told them to do as much… But the fact of the matter was I had no one else to talk to at school. I sat alone in classes, I studied on my own, I ate at mealtimes with my house but entirely distanced from the people around me.

At first the respite from people was welcome, but going on the second month of my seclusion, I was beginning to feel empty inside. My purpose seemed less motivating, and my focus on the future, well...what was the point anymore?

Crow was unusually silent as the weeks dragged on. Without the future delinquents and my alliance with Reg, I had nothing to do in my free time. In the compounding quiet moments I couldn’t help but feel like I was drowning.

How had Jules managed to do this in her time? In the short time we had, she was such a force of power, she could look a warlock like Alphard in the eye and not blink first. She’d isolated herself willingly in the Room of Requirement, and exercised large amounts of patience or so I could only imagine. She would understand my predicament, having gone through much the same in the name of finding me. And now I would follow in her lonely footsteps for...some reason. Why was I doing this voluntarily again?

Jules would know the answer...I had to see her again.

Sitting in a frozen courtyard, I withdrew the blood-turner from where I’d kept it in my inner pocket and stared at it in the sunlight. It’s small blade gleamed with a threat and a promise. It would be so easy to go to my sister now. Just a simple-

**I wouldn’t do that if I were you.**

My body jolted in surprise as Crow’s gravelled voice echoed through my ears after such a long time without ever having to hear it. _Where have you been?!_

**Gambling in Nevada: it’s a problem.**

_What!?!_

**I’ve been here the entire time, ya nincompoop. You’re stuck with me, and I you.**

_You haven’t said anything in weeks!_

**You weren’t doing anything that was worth commenting on.**

_I’m going to see my sister, you can’t stop me._

**You and I both know I can.**

_No I don’t! I don’t know what you are or why I listened to you at all!_

**Didn’t I tell you in the beginning?**

This made me pause to wrack my brain for a moment. Had Crow explained himself and I just missed it? No, that would be impossible. His irritating voice was forever seared into my inner ears. I possessed perfect recall due to my Legilimens. Crow was a strange being and somehow, he had seized control of my lifeline...I wanted it back.

_You will tell me who you are and what you want from me._

**Or?**

_I will never listen to you again._

**I can just hit the switch and you’ll forget-**

_I don’t forget. Not ever again._

**I can’t die.**

_Then I will._ I hadn’t meant it at first, but when Crow hesitated, I realized I’d struck a weak point. _You can’ switch time back as much as you wish but I will choose death rather than listen to you. I don’t know what the future brings but you and my sister have intoned rather strongly that everything falls apart if I stop cooperating._

There was a long pause. Longer than I liked but I waited for him to cave. He had to.

 **...Look. The less you know, the easier it** -

 _Tell me who you are,_ **_now_ ** _._

**You know who I am.**

_What kind of a name is ‘Crow’?_

**It’s my name, or nickname really but you get two or three, your sister has like fifty, we wanted one as well!**

_Who is ‘we’?_

Crow made a noise similar to clearing his throat, which was odd because I’d always pictured him as a bodiless being. Why would a throat that doesn’t exist need clearing? **We are none of your business!**

 _How long are you going to be stuck in my head? Can you at least tell me that? How did you even inhabit me?_ I couldn’t think of a better description for our predicament.

**I am not in you, that’d be weird. Do I look like Mufasa to you?**

_Who?_

**Fahget about it. That won’t come out til later anyway.**

_Stop dodging my question! Tell me who or what you are!_

**What’s the magic word?** A couple of dark spells and hexes jumped to the forefront of my mind, which Crow seemed to expect. **The manners version, if you wouldn’t mind.**

_Not that you deserve it...but, please tell me what you are._

**Deserve it?** I felt chills run down my spine as his tone changed drastically. **Deserve what- your respect, your reverence, your manners? You little brat!** I didn’t remember standing on my feet, but it was as though some invisible cord was pulling at the top of my head, forcing me to rise up onto the tips of my toes. **You’ll wish you’d remained ignorant when I’m through with you!**

Before I could even consider that I may have gone too far, I was caught up in a whirlwind of snow and wind, chilled, freezing, frozen, and then nothing...and everything.

I saw four people standing on a hill overlooking what looked somewhat like the Forbidden Forest and the Black Lake. I saw thousands of children in black robes waving their wands. I saw a dark haired wizard protecting a muggle clad in leather and steel. I saw hundreds of magicfolk be burned alive while a crowd of enraged and scared muggles cheered. (To be frank, some of the burnings I saw were only pretending to appease the muggles.) I saw the first four people again, this time three arguing with one rather heatedly, though I heard no words fall from their lips. I saw every gory detail of the Giant wars Professor Binns was always going on about. I saw families hiding in cottages, underground safe houses and trees enchanted to be houses on the interior while hoards of muggles hunted for them with all manner of weapons that era possessed. I saw dark magic rise and fall over and over again. I saw the Goblin rebellions, magnificent creatures destroyed out of fear.

I saw a boy and an old man watching a wardrobe burning beside them. I saw a young man cursing a muggle family, eyes empty and dark as the deed was done. I saw two women in two different places, both screaming over a lost child. I saw every second of my life from before I could walk to a few seconds ago in the chilly courtyard. I was then forced to witness sights that might happen, but had yet the chance to occur.

And that...that was a far worse experience. Because while the past was set in stone, the future held endless possibilities. Crow effectively shoved them all in my face in a single moment. I saw joy, anger; life, death; light before it was extinguished. I saw Jules, my sister, standing on a mountain’s peak. She couldn’t have been older than eleven… Her life in particular was shoved before me. All of her chances, all of her possible lifelines, each and every one of them laced with great joy and great anguish. No matter what path she took it seemed she was destined to suffer through excruciating trials. There were some instances where she did not go to Hogwarts. There were many where she did not live long enough to attend school. But what terrified me the most was the sight of her future beyond school, well into her adulthood. Of the billions of lives she could have, only three showed her as an adult, a wife, a mother, and one as a great-grandmother…

The whirlwind came to a sudden halt and I was on my hands and knees, every limb and muscle shaking as tears fell freely. My breath was coming in gasps, and I felt very distinctly that I was on the verge of losing all sense.

“Get up.”

I couldn’t raise my head, forget the rest of my body.

“Get up!”

Give me a minute, I wanted to say, but I couldn’t seem to find my voice.

“Kid! Get up!”

Slowly, I looked up, my already overloaded brain registering that I was no longer out in the Hogwarts courtyard.

I was kneeling on sand, gazing at the most unexpected thing in the world. Crow’s gravelly, deep voice had emitted from a squat, balding man with squinted eyes and a nose like a rotten tomato.

He ran a hand through the curls that remained resolutely on the side of his head. “Gorgeous, I know.”

“You-you’re—?” I was seized by a sudden coughing fit, apparently I had a long ways before I could function properly again.

“Only my friends call me Crow. I took you in and thought we had a deal but apparently you like to make threats to me and my business. That could make you an enemy. Do you want to be my enemy, Roman?”

I blanched. He had never called me anything other than ‘Kid’ (except once when he called me ‘Punk’, or earlier when he’d used ‘nincompoop’). “I don’t understand…what did you just do?”

He raised his hands, and as he did so more flashes of the possible futures danced before my mind’s eye. It was as incredible as it was painful, causing me to cry out and recoil. “You have seen in full what very few have glimpsed.  That knowledge and information is going to melt your mind—unless I choose to protect it. Which I could, if you decide you still wanna be friends.” The sand rose up behind Crow to solidify into a throne-like chair, upon which he sat, resting his chin on his knuckles as he leered at me. “I am called Kronos, god of Time.” He then made a fist with his free hand and punched what I had previously thought to be thin air. The reverberations rang in my ears as the entire space seemed to shake around us. “And I-“ Crow shouted. “Have been trapped in this hell-hole for centuries!” He pounded the invisible wall again, and it finally clicked into my dislodged brain where we had to be...but how?

“Gods are just muggle figmentations to help them find meaning in their lives,” I intended to keep that to myself, but it was then my voice decided to work. However, from the look on Crow’s face, he wasn’t going to bury me alive. In fact he seemed quite amused.

“And that,” he tapped the side of his squashed flesh that I assumed was his nose. “Is precisely what we want magicfolk to believe. But that’s not pertinent to the conversation we apparently need to have, now is it?”

“Apparently?! I have demanded answers from you since the beginning!”

“And I’m telling ya, you’ll wish I’d kept quiet. But it’s too late for all that now…” He gave a huge sigh, and glanced downwards. Following his gaze I noted his legs were too short to reach the sand from his throne.

Under different circumstances, I’d have chortled.

So many questions welled up inside me, but I wanted to be cautious now--he was being unexpectedly forward and I feared that one inquiry too far would shut him down again. Biting my tongue so I wouldn’t start out with something rude like _Why is the god of Time short and fat?_ _I mean honestly, if I had a chance to imagine a god of Time before now he’d look something like Dumbledore._ “Why are you trapped, and where is this place?”

Crow’s smile was hard and mirthless. “There was once a wizard who dared believe in the gods, insomuch that he felt it necessary to summon one.” He shook his head. “This guy in particular was obsessed with the future of his line, the continuation if you will. He was so convinced that it would end, and so desperate to prevent that from ever happening… Even being a pureblood wouldn’t stop him from researching muggle legends. He traveled to my temple ruins, and offered his blood, his riches, his soul...it’d been quite a long time since I’d been given so generous a sacrifice so I was stupid enough to appear before him. Instead of praying to my glory, he bound me with his magic, and transfigured my being into this Αίμα, συγγενής, επιστροφή.”

 _Blood-Turner_ , I reflected quietly.

“The only way his curse on me can be reversed...the only way I can be freed is if I ensure the continuation of his bloodline...that man’s name...was Sirius Black.”

I tried to picture my cousin fretting over the Black family surviving the test of time and failed dismally. Crow or Kronos or Krampus must be talking about the second or even first Sirius--my adopted great-great-something or other. (I admit, I’d never paid much attention to the family tree.) “If you’re the god of all time then why wait? Why not just snap your fingers and be done with it?”

Crow snorted. “Black _transfigured_ my physical form into this hourglass. In doing so he limited my powers. I can’t interact with the right people, whisper in the right ears, and shift what must be altered. I can show the future and past, and take you to the places necessary but without someone using the Blood-Turner, offering their blood again and again, I have no way of taking action.”

“So I’m just a pawn, a stepping stone on your way to freedom?” I tried to keep my voice steady. I didn’t like the feeling of being used.

“I’d prefer the term partner, but we can split the difference and agree on subordinate.” Crow grinned at my expression. “But yeah, I need you to alter time a few degrees. You saw the endless possibilities. They’ve even changed since the first time I showed you the future. Without my influence the world as you know it could dissolve into chaos. I can’t be trapped like this for much longer…”

I took a deep breath. It made no sense, and yet made everything so clear. My mind was still in shock from being exposed to all time, so it wasn’t surprising that my thoughts were so limited. “What do we have to do?”

“Protect the Black’s pure line, as Sirius I wanted. For now, we have to keep Regulus and Sirius safe and whole, whatever it takes.”

I nodded numbly, the next question escaping my lips before I could stop and consider whether I actually wanted the answer. “Why was I stolen from my family? I wasn’t even given the orb containing you until last year, so why…?” my voice trailed off weakly.

Crow actually looked ashamed now. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. “You were selected long before you and your sister’s birth. It had to be someone who could be both noticed and unnoticed in the past. Someone who could endear themselves to the most powerful and influential purebloods of this generation. History won’t remember you enough to raise eyebrows but your friends will hold only the fondest memories of you in the years to come...provided all goes well, that is.”

“But you have no influence on the world in this state--so how could you steal me away?”

Crow grimaced. “I actually have very little to do with your kidnapping. I only send you back to the right place, right year. Another god chose you to aid me, he was very stubborn about the whole affair too…”

“What do you mean?” I told myself to ask which god later, so that one day I could give him a piece of my mind.

“....I wanted Julianne. But he wouldn’t let me have her. Seeing what she’s grown into I understand--there’s no way she could be as inconspicuous as you are. But initially I thought she would gain my freedom a little….”

“Quicker?” I guessed.

Crow laughed but did not clarify. “She is a battle axe. Time requires a needle.”

“That first night you spoke to me...you said I could save her life if I listened to you.”

“Oho! He remembers.”

I coughed, beginning to feel like myself again. “Were you telling the truth, or only saying what I wanted to hear?”

He sat back in his throne, gazing keenly at me. “I have never lied. I have no reason to. Continue to work with me, and I promise she’ll be safe.”

I think the most unnerved I have ever felt in my life was in the millisecond a supposed god of Time promised me hope. But what kind of brother, or person would I be if I refused? As it always did, my decision broiled down to one simple fact: Jules spent the better part of her life searching for me, trying to save me. It was only right that I return the favor…no matter the cost.

 _…However_.

Crow had watched my expression change from scared, to resolute, and arrive at scheming. With a grunt, he asked, “What’s that look for?”

“I’ll do it…”

“But?”

“As much stock as I take in your words, every now and then, I’ll want to have a physical manifestation of my motivation.”

Crow scooted forward on his throne so the bottom of his shoes could reach the ground. “You insolent ass! I can’t just throw you back and forth through time so you can spend time with her whenever you feel melancholy! What do I look like—a temporal limousine driver?”

I wrinkled my nose as I considered him. “No, you look more like a panda.” A thought struck me and I added, “If you’re unable to impact the physical then this form is an illusion, right?”

He shrugged. “So?”

“Of all the impressions you could have made on me you decided to go with-“ I gestured at all of him. Granted, there wasn’t much, it didn’t take long.

The god of Time hopped to his feet, his throne disintegrating behind him. “You’d rather I appeared as some all-powerful personage? Ten feet tall, glowing eyes, fists of fire?”

“Or maybe just the normal level of intimidation…” I muttered, if only to prevent myself from laughing at the image his description had brought to my mind.  (Still this shrunken, bloated version just wider, with the remnants of his hair ablaze.)

Crow relaxed slightly, waddling closer to where I could no longer feel my knees, having knelt for a while now. “Time can be cruel. I feel this image is the best way to communicate that.”

“Time is what divides me from my family. All I ask is for a few glimpses while I perform what is required of me.”

He laughed hollowly. “Well played, Kid. Fine. You’ll get your glimpses. But only when it’s absolutely necessary!”

Before I could agree, object or argue, a white-hot flash washed over me—a stark contrast to the whirling snow that brought me there. When I opened my eyes again I was on my back, gazing up at the gray skies, partially buried by newly fallen snow.

I wasn’t sure I was truly back in the castle’s frozen courtyard until I sneezed.

The trip to the school kitchens passed in moments or minutes or seconds. Time seemed lucid and irrelevant, yet why did every step feel like it were becoming slower all the time? Once I was hunched over close to the roaring fire, (the one in the Ravenclaw Tower was too dainty for the kind of heat I needed restored) I gazed at the hourglass still in my stiff hand. It’s small blade still sharp, it’s sands as still as ever… but in the light of the flames reflected off the glass...I could have sworn there was a little gourd of a man sitting upon a throne, his little legs dangling from the seat.

Both eyes open.

No turning back.


	21. Whimsy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: If you're new or maybe you forgot, anything in my chapters that's been underlined is a direct quote from the literary works written by J.K. Rowling herself. Enjoy the chapter and don't forget to leave a comment!

 

Sometimes, Remus wished he’d been a Hufflepuff. In the House of the Badger, he would never have been given detention, he’d be right next to the kitchens, and he’d have less of a walk down to the whomping willow every month. But alas, he’d been sorted into Gryffindor, be-friended people like James, Peter and Sirius, was chosen by Dumbledore to be a prefect, and had gotten into trouble more times than he could ever have imagined. 

Still, since his appointment to prefect, James and Sirius pressured him less to go galavanting about the grounds and prank people in the hallways. They managed those things just fine on their own two-sometimes four-feet. Instead, James applied a new type of pressure. 

“You’ve got patrol tonight, eh Moony?”

Remus glanced up from his Charms homework: trying to enchant a teapot into making tea on its own. So far, he had only caused it to skip around his workspace and nearly dive into the fireplace. “Yes..?”

“Great! I’ve got new things for you to mention to Evans.” James pulled out a scroll of parchment and cleared his throat. “Reason #12,983: I’m the only one who-oof!” Sirius tossed a pillow at his face, which James then fired back, attempting to continue. “-who bothers to tell her how beautiful she is everyday-wagh!” he was then tackled by a large, black dog, both of them falling to the dormitory floor. “Re-reason #12,984: I respect my--stop biting me!--my elders!”

“But not professors,” Remus added under his breath. James gave in and transformed into a stag and proceeded to try and pin the dog down.  _ Reason #12,985: He’s horny _ _. _

“Not again,” Peter whined as he entered the room. “People can hear you two down in the common room you know!”

Sirius reclaimed his human form to reply. “We’re only rough-housing! Ow, watch it Prongs!”

“What if someone came up here and saw you?” Peter asked, climbing onto his bed and pulling out his Astronomy notes.

James returned to two legs and wrapped himself in Peter’s bed hangings. “See us? In our immodesty? What a travesty!”

Sirius rested his hands on his hips and stood without shame. “Let everyone in Hogwarts over 16 look!”

Remus rolled his eyes while they all laughed, hiding his begrudging smile behind his novel. He could only review his Charms notes so many times before his brain would explode. In the months following the Christmas holiday, the fifth years had been placed under an intense scrutiny by not only the professors, but parents and the other students as well. At any given moment, if a fifth year was caught to be doing something other than studying it was as though a great scandal had been committed. 

_ Which is odd, _ Remus reflected.  _ Given that the greatest scandal of all our generation was entirely ignored.  _ Sirius hadn’t said anything about the event, though his countenance would grow dark every time one of them mentioned it. Way back in January, Remus had desired nothing more than to confront Roman about the incident, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. From what he’d observed, his first friend was depressed, undergoing large periods of time where he spoke little and secluded himself as much as possible. It was as though he were trying to disappear…  _ Takes one to know one, I suppose...But did it have to be during 5th year? _ Hopefully, after their OWL examinations, he could find Roman on his own and try to understand what was really going on. 

At some point, Sirius transformed back into a dog and lay across Remus’s legs as he read over his DADA notes. James allowed Peter to quiz him on Transfiguration though there was really no point, at least it became more significant when they traded roles and Peter’s face turned red in concentration. 

Remus was mid-review of counter-spells while Peter was struggling to recall all five elements of Gamp’s Law, when the door to their dormitory banged open. Padfoot’s head rose and he let out a bark in alarm as Lily Evans marched forward, her dark red hair styled in a thick plait down her back. James stood up so quickly you’d think he’d sat on a pinecone, his hand flying into his ridiculously wild hair in the same motion. 

“I CAN’T BELIEVE THE NERVE OF YOU FOUR! THAT YOU WOULD PULL SOMETHING SO IMMATURE DURING CRUCIAL STUDY HOURS FOR THE OWLS AND NEWTS--” Remus wondered if she’d been ranting to herself before entering and was just now shouting at them all full volume without bothering to rewind for their comprehension. There was green fire in her eyes as she glared at them all, a kind that diminished slightly when she spotted Padfoot on Remus’s bed. “-since when do you have a dog, Remus?”

James rubbed at his ears, wincing. “Merlin’s beard, Evans, what’s got your wand in a twist?” 

Ignoring him, Lily approached Padfoot who watched her beguilingly. “I just always assumed when you were teased about a ‘furry little problem’, you owned a rabbit or hamster.” She looked at him for permission, her hand partially extended. “May I?”

James cleared his throat loudly. “Actually he’s my dog, so you’ll have to ask-- dammit. ”

Before he could finish, Padfoot got to his feet and leapt at Lily, knocking her to the floor and began to go at her face with sniffs and licks. Lily yelped in surprise but laughed as the dog greeted her in his own way. Remus sniggered at the look on James’ face, but decided to change the subject rather than watch him erupt, lest he give away Padfoot’s identity in his jealousy. “Would it be possible for you to clarify the reason you interrupted our studies?”

Lily sat up, pushing Padfoot off but scratching behind his ears with one hand. “Whew, he’s quite friendly…” She wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her robe, and Remus detected a quiet screeching noise sounding from the back of James’ throat. “Sorry, what did you say, Remus?”

“What were you shouting about?”

Lily rolled her eyes. “Don’t pretend, you know about the dung bombs. And you’re still not off the hook, I have half a mind to report the lot of you to the Headmaster this time-why are you looking at me like that?”

Remus, James, Peter and Padfoot were all staring at her with the same pitying expression. It was James who replied at last. “C’mon Evans, dung bombs are novice work; and anyway we’ve secluded ourselves up here intentionally to study and leave the rest of you alone.”

“Not to mention,” Peter piped up. “If we’d handled dung bombs, there’d be a trace of that foul stench in our dormitory wouldn’t there and it’s not like we’ve got the window open in need of airing anything out.”

Remus nodded. “Whoever the culprit is, you might want to cross-examine the younger students. I’ll help you with that.”

Lily had the grace to look sheepish. “Oh. Sorry. And thank you...” But a quick glance about the dormitory and she was back with another question. “Hang on, where’s Black?”

Peter fell into a coughing fit to hide a burst of nervous giggling that overcame him in that moment. James shrugged his shoulders at Lily. “Haven’t seen him since lunch.”

She squinted skeptically up at him, still stroking Padfoot’s back. “Hmm. Why don’t I believe you?” Padfoot tried to lick at her face again but she ducked. “What’s this one’s name, anyway?”

“Uh,” said James intelligently.

“Snuffles,” it was the first thing to pop into Remus’s head.  _ I think Roman suggested it for his code name instead of Padfoot at some point. _

Padfoot’s head whipped around at the sound of the ridiculous alibi, a muffled growl turned whine as he leered at Remus while Lily chuckled. “That’s a good name for a dog.” She reluctantly got to her feet and backed towards the door. “Well that bomber’s not going to turn themselves in… Coming, Remus?”

_ Right.  _ He set his book aside and followed her down to the common room where he immediately covered his nose and mouth with his sleeve, the stench was stale but still quiet effective. “Great Merlin! How many went off?” 

“About six,” Lily had pulled up her robes to cover her nose and mouth, but her eyes were watering. “Now you see why I was so upset.”  _ Pfft. In my dormitory she doesn’t need a reason to be upset, it’s merely a state of her being.  _ “But nevermind that. Since you three were upstairs the entire time—I know Potter likes to watch the chaos he causes—so you’re all innocent. I’m not ruling out Black, though, because come on you know he’s immature enough to pull this.”

Remus knew from her perspective this seemed to be the truth. But he couldn’t help but think about all the times Sirius had opened up about his family-life (or lack thereof). It made Remus feel almost grateful to his parents for locking him in a cage every full moon he spent at home. “Maybe when we were all twelve, but he’s got a more sensitive nose these days—this wasn’t his doing, I can promise you that.” 

Lily gave him her best skeptical look but did not argue, at least verbally. They checked in on the first through third year boys to see if anyone seemed guilty or particularly devious. The fourth years had apparently fled the tower and the older years felt insulted that they were even included in the inquiry. While Lily appeared stumped as they marched back to the common room, Remus cleared his throat. 

“It might have been a girl.” 

She stopped in her tracks and looked up at him. “...I suppose. But you aren’t allowed in the girls dormitory.”

“Which is rather unfair, given how you’re allowed to trespass as you please.” Remus replied, keeping his tone mild and passive. He knew why the rules were that way—as if he didn’t have daily reminders in people like Frank, Sirius or James.

“But even if it was a girl, they’d have had ample time to hide the evidence by now,” Lily carried on as though he hadn’t spoken, which he was used to by now. “Unless I-“ she stopped, eyes wide and her hand half raised...and then, to his confusion, Lily blushed. “Oh no...”

“What?”

Lily squared her shoulders and marched up the stairs to the boys dormitory again. Feeling like something was about to go sideways, Remus rushed after her, trying to get her to talk but she kept a stiff lip. When they’d reached his own door, she opened it without warning and said, “Alright look—Eep!” She pulled the door shut with a squeak, covering her eyes and backing up against the stone. 

“All right, Evans?” James called from within the room, sounding unbelievably smug. Remus guessed he was mid-change or something to cause this reaction out of Lily. 

“And this is why we knock,” Remus said softly, doing just that before heading inside. “Pull your shirt down, Prongs, you’ve broken Evans.”

As the room was in tatters, he guessed the stag and dog had re-started their wrestling match. By the sizable bite-mark over James’ rib cage, Padfoot had cheated. The great, black dog padded forward and licked his hand, pleading innocence and further convincing Remus of his guilt. James was grinning widely at the slightly open door behind Remus, trying to catch a glimpse of Lily. “Did I? Couldn’t handle all my masculinity, eh?”

_ That _ made Lily re-enter, just as James was adjusting his modesty, cheeks still flushed with color. “Potter, I need to borrow your dog.”

_ Ah. _ Remus now understood her behaviour down in the common room. The prospect of asking for a favor from James Potter must be mortifying to her. 

James glanced at Padfoot who was begging for an ear scratch from Remus, back to Lily, who stood resolute. “Why?”

“I need to look for the culprit among the girl’s and since Remus can’t go up there, I’m thinking Snuffles could help me to ‘sniff’ them out.” She cleared her throat and crossed her arms, apparently trying to re-establish her authority in this situation. Little did she realize the series of possibilities just flying through the minds of the animagi in the room at that moment. 

“Alright then,” James replied, not nearly as eager as Remus had imagined him replying. 

Lily blanched, apparently expecting him to resist or refuse. Padfoot trotted up to her, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. “Really? Just like that?”

James nodded, unable to hide a smirk. “Mhmm.”

Remus silently admitted that he too, was curious to know if a wizard could enter the girl dormitory while in the shape of an animal. Since the stair-slide debacle of 1972, they had left the issue alone but now…

She squinted at James suspiciously, apparently off-put by the idea that he could be helpful or genuine. Even as she walked out and down the stairs with Padfoot in her wake, Remus knew she was waiting for James to follow-up with a line like, “ _ Oh, since I did you a favor, why don’t you go out with me! _ Or  _ How about we go for a walk along the lake? Snuffles needs the exercise and we’d both just love the company! _

“Come on, we have to see this!” James grabbed Peter and Remus by the upper arms and dragged them down the stairs just in time to see Lily disappearing up the stairs to the girl’s dorm, Padfoot right at her heels. “Three...two...one…” James muttered as they waited for the stone to shift into a giant slide and send the pair right back down. They weren’t even bothered by the stale stench of dung in their anticipation. “...zero...minus one...minus two…”

“Blimey. It worked.” Peter said blankly. “Not that I’ll ever try it. Too many girls own a cat.” He shivered at the thought of where that would lead. 

“Still, I’m not sure repeating the feat is such a good--JAMES NO!” 

“JAMES YES!” 

“ _ Petrificus Totalus!”  _ Remus cried, freezing his friend before he could make one step closer to the stairwell, or transform. 

“Should we levitate him back to the room?” Peter asked after the initial shock ebbed away.

Remus glanced around. It wasn’t as though anyone was going to come down for a while yet. “Eh. Padfoot can get him when he’s finished.”

* * *

 

“Five more minutes!” Professor Flitwick called as he walked past their desks. 

Remus gazed intently at the exam sheet, comparing it to his answers and ensuring himself that he had completed them to the best of his ability. A slight frown crossed his face as he fixed a grammatical error that probably wouldn’t affect the overall grade.  _ You never know...one semicolon out of place… _

“Quills down, please!” squeaked Professor Flitwick. “That means you too, Stebbins! Please remain seated while I collect your parchment!  _ Accio! _ ”

More than a hundred rolls of parchment zoomed into the air and into Professor Flitwick’s outstretched arms, knocking him backward off his feet. Several people laughed. A couple of students at the front desks got up, took hold of Professor Flitwick beneath the elbows, and lifted him onto his feet again.

“Thank you...thank you,” panted Professor Flitwick. “Very well, everybody, you’re free to go!”

Remus picked up his exam page and looked around for his friends. James and Sirius had already begun to walk towards the door, Peter scurrying along in their wake. He maneuvered his way towards them, falling into step beside Sirius.

“Did you like question ten, Moony?” asked Sirius as they emerged into the entrance hall.

“Loved it,” said  Remus  briskly. “‘Give five signs that identify the werewolf.’ Excellent question.”

“D’you think you managed to get all the signs?” said James in tones of mock concern.

“Think I did,” said  Remus  seriously, as they joined the crowd thronging around the front doors eager to get out into the sunlit grounds. “One: He’s sitting on my chair. Two: He’s wearing my clothes. Three: His name’s Remus Lupin…”

Peter  was the only one who didn’t laugh. “I got the snout shape, the pupils of the eyes, and the tufted tail,” he said anxiously, “but I couldn’t think what else--”

“How thick are you, Wormtail?” said James impatiently. “You run round with a werewolf once a month--”

“Keep your voice down,” implored Remus.

“What?” James shrugged carelessly. “No one’s paying attention to us--and besides, everyone’s brain is fried from studying since September.”

“Still,” Remus glanced around. “All it would take is one person…”

“Well, I thought that paper was a piece of cake,” said Sirius, seeking to change the subject.  “I’ll be surprised if I don’t get Outstanding on it at least.”

“Me too,” said James. He put his hand in his pocket and took out a struggling Golden Snitch.

“Where’d you get that?”

“Nicked it,” said James casually. He started playing with the Snitch, allowing it to fly as much as a foot away and seizing it again. Peter watched him in awe.

“Aren’t you a Chaser?” Remus asked as they neared the lakeside.

“I’m just that good,” he replied smugly. 

They stopped in the shade of a beech tree and threw themselves down on the grass.  The sunlight was dazzling on the smooth surface of the lake, on the bank of which a group of laughing girls who had just left the Great Hall were sitting with shoes and socks off, cooling their feet in the water. 

Remus pulled out his Transfiguration textbook and began to try and read, seeking some last minute preparation. OWLs couldn’t have been built up enough in his opinion, though he felt slightly disappointed that no one had spontaneously combusted like Professor Kettleburn had insinuated. Sirius was staring around, looking bored and haughty as was his birthright. And James was still playing with the Snitch while Peter watched open-mouthed.  Every time James made a particularly difficult catch, Peter gasped and applauded. 

“Put that away, will you?” said Sirius finally, as James made another catch and Peter let out a cheer. “Before Wormtail wets himself from excitement.”

Peter turned slightly pink but James grinned. “If it bothers you,” he said , before stowing the Snitch in his pocket. 

“I’m bored,” said Sirius. “Wish it was full moon.”

“You might,” said Remus darkly from behind his book. “We’ve still got Transfiguration, if you’re bored you could test me… Here.” He held out his book.

Sirius snorted. “I don’t need to look at that rubbish, I know it all.”

“This’ll liven you up, Padfoot,” said James quietly. “Look who it is…”

Sirius’s head turned. He became very still, like a dog that had scented a rabbit. “Excellent,” he said softly. “ _ Snivellus. _ ”

Remus grimaced as he spotted Snape rising to his feet, his greasy hair swinging around his face as he stowed the OWL paper in his bag.  As he emerged from the shadows of the bushes and set off across the grass, Sirius and James stood up.  He and Peter remained seated: Remus stared blankly down at his book, a small frown finding his mouth again.  _ One day, they’ll give it a rest...I hope. _

“All right, Snivellus?” said James loudly. Snape reacted so fast it was as though he had been expecting an attack: Dropping his bag, he plunged his hand inside his robes, and his wand was halfway into the air when James shouted, “ _ Expelliarmus! _ ”

Snape’s wand flew twelve feet into the air and fell with a little thud in the grass behind him. Sirius let out a bark of laughter.

“ _ Impedimenta! _ ” he said, pointing his wand at Snape, who was knocked off his feet, halfway through a dive toward his own fallen wand.

Students all around had turned to watch. Some of them had gotten to their feet and were edging nearer to watch. Some looked apprehensive, others entertained.

Snape lay panting on the ground. James and Sirius advanced on him, wands up. James kept glancing over his shoulder at the girls at the water’s edge as he went. Remus knew why, that was where Lily was sitting with Mary, Alice and Marlene. Even Peter had stood up, edging around Remus to get a better view.

“How’d the exam go, Snivelly?” said James.

“I was watching him, his nose was touching the parchment,” said Sirius viciously. “There’ll be great grease marks all over it, they won’t be able to read a word!”

Several people watching laughed; Peter sniggered shrilly. Snape was trying to get up, but the jinx was still operating on him; he was struggling, as though bound by invisible ropes. 

“You--wait,” he panted, staring up at James with an expression of purest loathing. “You--wait…”

“Wait for what?” said Sirius coolly. “What’re you going to do, Snivelly, wipe your nose on us?”

Snape let out a stream of mixed swearwords and hexes, but his wand being ten feet away, nothing happened. 

“Wash out your mouth,” said James coldly. “ _ Scourgify! _ ”

Pink soap bubbles streamed from Snape’s mouth at once; the froth was covering his lips, making him gag, choking him-

“Leave him ALONE!” Lily roared like a lioness protecting her cub. 

James and Sirius looked around. James’s free hand jumped to his hair again. “All right, Evans?” said James, and the tone of his voice was suddenly deeper, more mature.

“Leave him alone,” Lily repeated, drawing nearer and was every inch intimidating even in her bare feet.  She was looking at James with every sign of great dislike, as she usually would whenever he and Snape clashed.  “What’s he done to you?”

“Well,” said James, appearing to deliberate the point, “it’s more the fact that he  _ exists _ , if you know what I mean…”

Many of the surrounding watchers laughed, Sirius and Peter included.  Remus and Lily remained stoic. 

“You think you’re funny,” she said coldly. “But you’re just an arrogant, bullying toerag, Potter. Leave him  _ alone. _ ”

“I will if you go out with me, Evans,” said James quickly. “Go on… Go out with me, and I’ll never lay a wand on old Snivelly again.”

“I wouldn’t go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid,” said Lily.

“Bad luck, Prongs,” said Sirius briskly, turning back to Snape,  who had been inching nearer to his wand as the hex wore off . “OY!”

But too late; Snape had directed his wand straight at James; there was a flash of light and a gash appeared on the side of James’s face, splattering his robes with blood. James whirled about; a second flash of light later, Snape was hanging upside down in the air, his robes falling over his head to reveal skinny, pallid legs and a pair of greying underpants.

Remus squinted at James in surprise.  _ Did he just use a nonverbal spell? And what kind of jinx does that?  _ With all the time they’d spent together over the years, Remus had never seen James use this kind of magic before. 

Amidst cheers and laughter at this turn of events,  Lily, whose furious expression had twitched for an instant as though she was going to smile, said, “Let him down!”

“Certainly,” said James and he jerked his wand upward. Snape fell into a crumpled heap on the ground. 

Disentangling himself from his robes, he got quickly to his feet, wand up, but Sirius said, “ _ Locomotor mortis! _ ” and Snape keeled over at once, rigid as a board.

“LEAVE HIM ALONE!” Lily shouted. She had her own wand out now. James and Sirius eyed it warily.

“Ah, Evans, don’t make me hex you,” said James earnestly.

“Take the curse off him, then!” 

James sighed deeply, then turned to Snape and muttered the countercurse. “There you go,” he said, as Snape struggled to his feet again, “you’re lucky Evans was here, Snivellus-”

“I don’t need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!”

The change in the air was palpable. The warm welcome embrace of the afternoon was replaced with a stark chill, and Remus had no idea what to do about it. Snape had crossed a line, further than ever before…

Lily blinked. “Fine,” she said coolly. “I won’t bother in future. And I’d wash your pants if I were you,  _ Snivellus. _ ”

“Apologize to Evans!” James roared at Snape, his wand pointed threateningly at him. 

“I don’t want  _ you _ to make him apologize,” Lily shouted, rounding on James. “You’re as bad as he is…”

“What?” yelped James. “I’d NEVER call you a you-know-what!”

“Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you’ve just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can--I’m surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK.”

She turned on her heel and hurried away.  Remus distractedly wondered how far she’d get before remembering she’d left her socks and shoes at the lakeshore.

“Evans!” James shouted after her, “Hey, EVANS!”

But she didn’t look back.

“What is it with her?” said James, trying and failing to look as though this was a throwaway question of no real importance to him.

“Reading between the lines, I’d say she thinks you’re a bit conceited, mate,” said Sirius.

“Right,” said James, who looked furious now, “right--” There was another flash of light, and Snape was once again hanging upside down in the air. “Who wants to see me take off Snivelly’s pants?”

“That’s enough, Potter,” said a new voice, and Remus looked around at Roman, who was leaning on the beech tree.

James shot him a condescending glare. “Stay out of it,  _ Black _ .”

Rather than staying out of it, Roman stepped forward, seizing James in a headlock, his grip unrelenting. “I said, that’s enough.” 

James dropped his wand, dropping Snape and clawed at Romans’ arm, struggling to breathe. Sirius turned his wand on his cousin, expression dark. “Let him go, Roman!”

Roman held fast, even as James began to turn red then purple from lack of oxygen. Sirius raised his wand to hex his cousin, when Roman suddenly released James, who fell onto his hands and knees coughing as his lungs reclaimed lost air. It was around that moment Sirius punched Roman and the two began to tussle. Once James felt revived enough he joined in, and somewhere around that time, Remus recognized that the distraction had allowed Snape to slither away. 

Yet the fighting didn’t slow down at all, and with the already gathered onlookers egging them on, Remus didn’t see a quick resolution. Wands forgotten on the grass, Sirius and James punched, pulled and kicked, Muggle-style, while Roman replied in full-force. For someone getting ganged up on by two star Quidditch players, he wasn’t exactly losing, not that they were competing. Remus watched, fascinated. It had been ages since he’d had an exchange with Roman, but seeing him up close like this, even as Sirius gave him a black eye, he knew something was wrong. Something was different, he’d changed; he was still Roman, maybe, but this was an altered version of the boy who’d snuck around the castle learning self-transfiguration. 

Rising to his feet and withdrawing his wand, Remus cried, “ _ Immobulus! _ ” and moved forward to disentangle his friends while they hovered frozen in place. The death grip Sirius had on Roman’s collar proved to be as difficult as expected but at least he’d pulled James free and back towards the beech tree. Aware that they were still the center of attention, he graced the onlookers with a daggering stare until they either backed up or moved their eyes away.

With the lack of an audience, Remus crouched over the Black cousins and said, “Alright look, I’m going to lift the spell and when I do, you will release each other and act civil, or I’m using the wedgie jinx. Understand?”

Unable to move or speak, Sirius and Roman merely blinked once or twice. He’d have to take that as a yes, and so used the counterspell. The three of them collapsed to the grass with a unified thud, Sirius and Roman glaring at each other like they’d love to start up again. But, with Remus’s wand still aimed at their undefended bodies, they broke apart and got to their feet. 

“You let him get away,” Sirius said, his voice like ice.

“I think you mean I let him live,” Roman corrected, brushing grass off his sleeves and robes.

“Same difference,” Sirius growled.

Roman raised his eyebrows, mouth set in a thin line as he gazed at his cousin. “What would it prove if you kept tossing him around like a ragdoll? We get it, you and James are an unbeatable combination and you hate Snivellus and he hates you. There comes a point where you’re only beating a dead cow.”

“Why do you care,” Sirius shot back. “You can’t quit on your friends and then appear out of nowhere to scold us. Where were you when he was cursing Peter in the hallways after class? Where were you every single month? Where-”

“What, so to have my opinion count I have to be attached at the hip to you four?”  asked Roman incredulously. “It may have escaped your notice but I’m on the other side of the castle half the time, and the other half I had my own problems to deal with!”

“Problems that never seemed to deter you in the past years!”

“That was kid stuff, what we’d run around doing. I’m just trying to tackle real life before I get run over.” He glanced towards James, Peter, Remus, then back at Sirius again, his expression somber. “You can pretend you’ll be young forever and nothing ever changes but I hope you’ll wake up before it’s too late.” His eyes flicked towards where Lily had marched off and sighed deeply. “Merlin knows you’ve all got better things to do.”

“You’re painting us as the villains, but he’s the one who-” James began to protest. 

“Retaliated?” Roman finished aggressively. “Can you blame him? I get that you loathe one another but you’re not winning any battles by repeatedly humiliating him, as you might have noticed...though I for one greatly doubt it.”

“You always know exactly what to say, don’t you,” said Sirius through gritted teeth. “But you haven’t been here. You’ve ignored us for months and you don’t get to waltz back among us and tell us off!”

“Yes, I can understand how hearing the truth would  piss you off .” 

Remus had to grab Sirius and bodily hold him back from pouncing on his cousin. Roman blinked calmly, apparently bored by the animosity being sent his way. That was a little bit closer to the old Roman, to Lux, but every instinct Remus possessed, animal or otherwise, was telling him to flee. Whatever had changed his first friend, it terrified half of him. His body was the same, but it was almost as though there was someone else gazing through those steel-grey eyes. It made Remus think about Muggle suspicions like possession but he shrugged such ideas away. 

Apparently deciding that he’d said quite enough, Roman stepped back. “Good luck on the exam tomorrow.”

Under Remus’s hold on him, Sirius shook quietly until Roman was well on his way back up to the castle. It was only then that he felt it safe to let him go.

It was odd, but Sirius was only ever emotionally affected when his family got involved. Faced with countless Slytherins, angry Ravenclaws or indignant Hufflepuffs, or even members of their own house, Sirius could laugh arrogantly and play it off as though it was all a game. But every time it was Roman, or Regulus he was against, he’d lose the bored high-and-mighty act. Remus had never thought about the reason before that moment, but he wasn’t entirely sure how to breach the subject. Sirius only ever opened up on his terms, and never on cue.

“...Are we not going to talk about how Roman stopped you like a Muggle, or..?” Peter piped up from where he stood near James. Remus noticed some discoloration already showing up on his neck from where Roman’s elbow had pressed into it. 

“I’ve never seen a wizard pull that move before,” he commented. “I wonder where or even why he learned it…”

“Maybe Ravenclaw’s a bit more tough than we were led to believe..?” James coughed, picking up his wand from where he’d dropped it. “Or maybe he didn’t want to try and beat me in a proper duel.”

“Yeah, because he’d lose!” Peter chirped. 

Sirius remained quiet as James and Peter cheered up, downplaying Roman’s dueling capabilities. Remus could tell the whole affair since Snape’s escape was really eating at him, but from which angle?

Extending a hand to his friend’s shoulder, he said, “He was only trying to help.”

“Was he?” Sirius said bitterly. “Or was he feeling left out? Either way he has no business in what I, what we choose to do with our time.”

His inner wolf, which Remus had successfully ignored thus far at Hogwarts, raised its hackles, or in the physical sense caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up.  **_No._ **

He had never told his friends that the wolf tried to talk to him sometimes, mostly when the moon was waxing. He wasn’t sure how to bring it about without sounding completely mad.  _ Yes, that Quidditch match was rubbish, and oh by the way my werewolf side likes to whisper creepy nothings in my head every so often, pass the marmalade won’t you? _ He couldn’t be certain that he wasn’t going mad to begin with, it wasn’t as though Hogwarts offered a course in werewolf theology. Maybe it was normal, maybe it was a bad sign, either way he had no one close who would understand what he was going through. The wolf’s voice grew louder at night when all else was silent, which made it harder to sleep. He was surprised he’d made it this far in the examination process without completely falling apart. 

“Let’s head in,” James prompted, slinging his arm around Sirius’s shoulders and on Remus’s back as Peter moved to Sirius’s other side. “‘Nick some treats from the kitchens, shall we? Picking fights and getting a perfect score on that test has made me quite peckish…”

 

* * *

 

The exams were over, the fifth years and seventh years utterly spent, even Sirius and James had to admit that they could think of nothing better to do than lay flat on the courtyard benches. Remus was on his way to rejoin them from the bathroom when he spotted Roman skulking his way towards the library. With the coursework over with, this was a particularly strange direction to take, especially with a shifty look about him. He followed Roman at a distance at first, but the closer to the library the faster his pace became, forcing Remus to nearly jog after him, while still trying to stay out of sight. 

Once in the library itself, Roman made a beeline for the restricted section, and with Madam Pince nowhere in sight, he was able to enter with no resistance. It was there Remus hesitated; he really didn’t want end-of-year detention. But he also didn’t want to go all summer without knowing what had changed his friend.

Only two steps into the dusty section and he nearly stumbled right into Roman, who was perched on a desk, apparently waiting for him. “You suck at tailing, Moony, which is ironic.”

Tongue in cheek, Remus shuffled his feet. “What’s to say I was following you?”

Roman quirked an eyebrow. “Like anyone would be caught dead in the restricted section before the End-of-Year feast.” He clicked his tongue. “Them’s grounds for detention, Moony.”

“You’re telling me you’re purposefully seeking trouble by coming here, now?” Remus asked, attempting to turn the situation on him. Roman only shrugged. Then he hopped off the desk and moved further into the restricted shelves, his eyes raking the ancient spines, looking for something specific. “Or were you just trying to lure me away from your cousin and James?”

Roman chuckled. “I wasn’t luring anyone anywhere. Just looking for a book no shop could give me, and I certainly wouldn’t find it at home. You decided to follow me here of your own accord. The question being why you’d feel the need..?” He glanced back, silvery eyes flashing before turning back to the shelves.

Claiming the abandoned perch, Remus sighed, disturbing quite a lot of dust in the process. “I suppose I never quite understood you deciding to hold us at arm’s length. I thought we were better friends than that...whatever you’ve been wrestling with this year has left you isolated and I, better than anyone, know what that’s like.” He glanced down at his knees, wondering if he was being stupid, if reconciliation or understanding were too far out of reach by now. “I still consider you to be my friend, even if you feel the opposite. You don’t have to tell me what’s been going on, I just wanted to talk to you again. Between Sirius, James and Peter, intelligent and mature conversation is hard to come by…”

Roman did not reply. He reached towards the shelf and pulled out a surprisingly small book, and began to thumb through its pages expertly, as though he did this everyday. Which, could very well be true, given that Remus had no idea what he’d been upto for several months now. He even knew when the librarian would be absent, the perfect time to slip by without being stopped… What was he reading?

He attempted to read over Roman’s shoulder by stretching his neck a bit, but the markings across the old, worn pages were not English by any standard. In fact… “Is that Greek?”

“Mhm.”

“You read Greek? I thought you only studied Latin, and French and one other language before coming to school..?”

“You remembered.”

“So between studying, being a prefect and whatnot when in the world did you have time to pick up a new language?”

“Not so much a language, hardly anyone  _ speaks _ Ancient Greek these days…”

“Why are you being so pedantic?” Remus asked, his brow furrowed as he gazed at the back of Roman’s head.

“I’m not being pedantic… Well, maybe a little.” Remus waited for him to continue but he only shrugged and went back to his reading. 

“So, what’s the book?”

“ _ I týchi tou chrónou _ ,” Roman answered unhelpfully. As if to rub it in, he read a passage from the pages, still only in Greek. “ _ O mandýas tou Theoú Krónos perná ótan o prótos vrískei áxia antikatástasi. Éna epilegméno átomo pou échei ektetheí se pollaplá strómata chrónou kai échei epiviósei se opoiadípote epochí me eláchisti í kamía zimiá. _ ” He snapped the little book shut and grumbled, “Really??”

Remus blinked, because he didn’t think Roman was talking to him in that instant. Maybe he wasn’t the only one hearing voices.  _ Oh Merlin, what if I really did bite him one night?? _ “Who are you talking to?”

Roman jumped, apparently forgetting that he wasn’t alone. He shoved the book back on the shelf and turned to look at him. “You’re still here?”

“Of course. Who are you talking to?”

“Myself.” 

Remus hung his head, grimacing. That answer came too quickly; Roman was definitely hearing voices. But how had he turned into a werewolf without Remus or anyone else knowing? Maybe that was why his own wolf was so scared of Roman these days. Now, if he would just swallow his pride and admit that he’d been turned, they could figure out this transformation together. “Look, you don’t have to be afraid of me.”

Roman fixed him with a bewildered stare. “Well that’s a relief, I was about to wet myself,” he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“I mean, I know it must’ve hurt in the beginning, and you’re probably confused and searching for answers on your own but I’m really the best source you could go to…” Why was he dodging the issue? It was so obvious, the more Remus thought about it. He’d bitten him way back in September, and ever since then he’d been filled with resentment towards him and was trying to politely but pointedly avoid his presence. But surely, he understood by now that there was no controlling the wolf? 

Roman continued to appear confused, and Remus silently applauded his acting. “Is that a fact?”

Clearly, he would have to be more direct. Hopping off the perch and moving as close as he dare, Remus said, “Roman… I  _ know _ . You don’t have to hide it.” Those silver eyes scanned him, and Remus felt the uncomfortable sensation that Roman was seeing right through him. Then he closed his eyes, shoulders shaking as he pursed his lips. Remus placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s going to be alright, don’t w-” he broke off as Roman burst out laughing, unable to hold it back any longer. 

“I’m not a werewolf! Merlin’s beard-!” Roman bent double, holding his ribs as though they were about to break. “You actually thought-!” He howled incoherently with mirth.

Remus frowned, not sure if he felt more relieved or embarrassed. “It makes sense, with your secrecy being a mode of misdirection. And get a grip, it’s not funny!”

“Apologies, I haven’t laughed in awhile.” Roman cleared his throat, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “So, you want to know what’s going on with me, and being the good, understanding friend that you are, you won’t leave me alone until I tell you, is that right?”

“Yes.”

“Brilliant.” 

Roman pushed past him, headed out of the library, and Remus followed along in his wake, expecting to be taken somewhere or shown something. He followed Roman along several corridors, up the clock tower, down the clock tower, around the sixth floor twice, down several secret passageways and out onto the grounds before it dawned on Remus that Roman was only trying to tire him out. Still, he kept pace right up until they reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

There, Roman sat down on the roots of a cypress, his back resting against the trunk. Remus followed suit after first glancing around cautiously. For all the nights he’d run wild in the woods, he was still afraid of its inhabitants. “Well?”

“What do you expect me to say? Clearly you believe something momentous had to occur if you’re willing to bet I was turned into a werewolf.”

Remus shook his head. “I wouldn’t be the same without my friends, so I can’t imagine your intentions were without cause. You dislike nearly everyone you come into contact with, but you were once surrounded by people you were comfortable with. I just don’t understand what changed.” He chewed his lip before adding, “Not to mention, you got suspended for that stunt at the Ministry, and we still can’t figure out how or why you pulled it off…”

He sighed heavily. “Yes well, seeing as no one bothered to ask, I never felt the need to share.”

Squinting at his friend, Remus recalled bits and pieces of the article on the issue to phrase into a question. “I mean...what would you even do with a Time-Turner?”

Roman smirked inexplicably. “What indeed. Tell me, have you tried speaking to Sirius in this demanding fashion or am I to be your testing grounds?”

“Roman, I more than anyone you know can sympathize with something weighing heavily on your conscious. You look as bad as I do most days, and if you’re not a werewolf then there must be something truly horrible taking over your life.”

Remus knew he had him cornered. Either he was going to open up or lash out. 

Roman rubbed at his eyes and ran his hand through his long tresses. His hair had grown out longer than Sirius’s this year, and yet managed to look better then certain girl’s Remus knew. “...What do you know about mine and Sirius’s family?”

_ It’s opening! _ “The Black family? Uh, pureblood, members of the Sacred 28, majority in Slytherin, present company and Padfoot excluded of course...sort of cruel…”

“And strong followers of a patriarchy.” Roman added, meeting his eyes with a level stare. “My father is the eldest son, and though I have three cousins born before me, they are all female, thus I am the Black heir.” He swallowed. “My father has seen fit to ensure that I be properly prepared to take on the responsibilities and duties he cares for now.”

Somewhere in the dark of his mind, the wolf told Remus  **_No_ ** **.**

“On top of everything else that’s happened this year, I had to choose what I could and couldn’t keep up with and, as I told everyone back in December, my social life had to take a backseat while I balanced out the rest of my schedule. I’m sorry if I seemed forceful and rude but given how loyal you and the rest tend to be, I couldn’t foresee another way.” He shrugged. “It was the most logical option.”

“Great Merlin,” Remus sighed after a long pause. “You really are a Ravenclaw, aren’t you?”

Roman laughed. 

While Remus suspected his friend was still withholding information, mainly because the wolf was insisting on just that, he was willing to accept the half-truth. So long as he could have his friend back, this would do just fine.

“It’ll be easier on you next year, right? No OWLs to stress over, and you’ll have all summer to learn how to be a patriarch,” he prompted hopefully.

Roman considered his words for a while, then nodded. “Yes, I think next year will be a great contrast to this one.” And he spoke earnestly then, which gave Remus a great sense of relief.

* * *

I watched Remus accept everything I’d fed to him, most of it straight out of Crow’s own phrasing. As usual, the voice in my head was right, in this case, Remus was never going to let the matter rest. Giving him a bone to gnaw on while I focused on my true purpose was the only way we could both move forward as we were meant. Since January onto June, I’d been laying what Crow liked to call the foundations of the future. Giving the Gryffindors a wide berth, but planting seeds in the other houses. Just a few days ago, in allowing Severus Snape to escape from James Potter’s fury, I’d gained favor in those dark, soulless eyes.

Something Crow swore I’d need later on.

The very idea made me want to take a shower. 


	22. I Swear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When the paragraphs are italicized in this chapter, it's a flashback.

 

The compartment door slid open and I saw a flash of red as Lily Evans slammed the door shut and locked it loudly, before she slid down to sit on the floor. From where I was sitting by the window, I shut _I Týchi tou Chrónou_ and set it aside as Evans hugged her knees and trembled silently.

As Hogwarts had literally just left the view from the train windows, I couldn’t imagine why she was acting like this, unless she really didn’t want to leave the castle. If that was the case, I mean, who could blame her.

“Are you okay?” I ventured to ask after she continued to shake.

Lily lifted her head, showing too many tears in her green eyes and streaks down her cheeks. When she recognized me she wiped at her face hurriedly and made to leave. “Sorry, Roman, I thought no one was in here. I-I’ll just go-” she hiccuped.

“Hey,” I said softly, grabbing her arm and pulling her into the seat beside me. I was still rubbish when people leaked from the eyes and nose, and knew I would struggle helping her if I was forced to look at her. At the very least, I doubted she was keen to look at me either, so side by side was our best hope. “In my experience, sad people shouldn’t be alone.”

“I’m not sad,” she wailed then, likely hearing how that sounded aloud, swallowed and tried again. “I’m really not...just waiting for the spell to wear off…”

“Spell?” I repeated, not entirely sure I’d heard correctly. “What do you mean, someone hexed you?” I reflexively began to check for injuries and she elbowed me in the ribs. “Ow!”

“It’s a s-stupid c-crying j-jinx-and I d-don’t know how to m-make it stop!” she hiccuped again and buried her face in her hands.

Clearly, I wasn’t going to get anything sensical out of her until the spell was lifted, but I didn’t know about any crying jinxes. I also had never seen a spell that grabbed a person by their ankle and hoisted them into the air. Likely someone had gotten ahold of an old, forgotten spellbook and was using random spells at their leisure, not caring what did and didn’t catch on.

Withdrawing my own wand, I flicked it over Evans and muttered, “ _Spiro.”_ At once she gasped, and was able to take several deep breaths, calming herself down. She went to use her sleeve to wipe at her face, at which point I offered a kerchief. She stared at it in surprise before taking it to wipe her eyes and blow her nose. “Lovely.”

“How did you know the counterjinx?” she asked in a hollow voice.

“I didn’t. I just know that a rise in emotions is always solved by controlling your breath, and ‘spiro’ is Latin for ‘I breathe’.”

She made a small noise that sounded like, “Oh.”

Satisfied that she was stabilizing, I picked up _I Týchi tou Chrónou_ and began to read quietly. She sniffed and sighed quite a bit, but eventually settled with her back against my arm and her feet up on the remainder of the seat. With her wand she cleaned my kerchief and out of the corner of my eye I saw her charming it to fold and twist into different shapes and sometimes animals. After an hour or so she fell asleep, and when I moved my arm from under her to stretch it out, she flopped onto my lap.

Feeling like disturbing her would be like unto poking a sleeping dragon, I allowed this and continued to read, even though I’d read the stupid book cover to cover several times. Crow had been against my researching the topic back in February when it first occurred to me. He’d even tried to distract me from finding it deep in the restricted section, but he couldn’t help but read it with me. Mainly because, Remus had called me out on this, I didn’t speak a word of Greek. But Crow’s favorite people were the Ancient Greeks, and he knew the language very, very well. It had been slow going at first, convincing him to tell me what every line translated to, but in the end, he’d caved, and now, seated on the Hogwarts Express, I didn’t really need the book. I’d memorized each passage about a month ago.

Lily napped a few hours and was only roused by the trolley witch calling as she pushed her cart closer and closer. Her bright green eyes blinked open, getting a good view of the underside of my chin and up my nostrils. Gazing down my nose at her as she slowly became aware of the position we were in, I said, “Morning sunshine.”

She sat up, blinking as she looked out the window. “Halfway there?”

“Something like that,” I stood up if only to stretch. I’d started to feel quite cramped with her on me like that. Not to mention I’d been praying to Merlin and anyone else listening that James or Snape would stay in their compartments and never witness what was transpiring at the back of the train. Apparently luck was on my side because as far as I knew, no one saw.

“Anything off the trolley!” the old witch called from a few compartments down. Lily perked up and unlocked the door, stepping out to greet the snack lady. As she did so it occurred to me she might not have money on her, it wasn’t as though she brought her luggage in here with her tears. I began to follow her out and that is when it happened.

I had taken three steps on the train, and then I was tripping into another person, and we fell in a tangle of limbs on the stone floor. The person who had tripped me kicked at me until we came apart at last.

As I got to my feet, she took out her wand and pointed it at me threateningly. It was a strange thing to see such a long wand in the hands of an eleven, twelve year old girl. She still had layers of baby fat, but her eyes held that fire that made her stick out like a sore thumb. And she was gazing intently at my face as though she intended to burn it into her mind’s eye. What was off-putting was her uniform; it was dark blue and some shade of red. Over her heart was a golden Celtic knot, and while she looked up at me without fear, those eyes held no hint of recognition. She had no idea who I was.

Still, in the moment I was so happy to see her, I spoke without thinking. “Blimey, you’re a lot younger than I’d hoped. This must be too soon…” Casting about for something else to talk about, I looked around at the place where we’d met. The walls seemed to be comprised of several different stones, minerals and woods in some places. Like the magical contractors couldn’t settle on one element to build upon. Frowning, I asked, “Where are you?” I glanced down at her robes, which were suspiciously styled like muggle-clothes. “What are those?” When I looked back at her face, I saw hints of my Jules staring back. “About how old are you now?”

Her poor face had switched from curious to terrified in about three seconds flat, and her wand arm was trembling as she screamed internally. She inhaled, and as she exhaled I felt something slam against my mental walls. With a jolt, I realized she was trying to use her Legilimency on me.

Now I knew she had to be in the early years, because the sensation was more of a tickle than a slice. But still, it wasn’t as though my defenses were perfect, she’d be able to glean something from me, wouldn’t she?

**Fahget about it. I got ya covered.**

_What?_

**Just get your kicks before we gotta head back.**

_Little warning next time would’ve been nice!_

I focused at my sister’s little face, her mind wide open for my interpretation, which was a nice change. I wish I’d known better than to speak all the information I’d gleaned aloud. “You’re...eleven years old, which means you’re still at Ilvermorny. You haven’t been to Hogwarts yet, but suddenly now more than ever you really want to be there. You just…” I felt a pang in my heart as I stumbled upon her recent discoveries, like literally barely a month of weighing on her heart. “You found out about Oliver.” I hesitated, glancing at her wand which was still aimed at my face. I wondered how many defensive spells the American wizarding school taught their first years. Hogwarts barely skimmed over shooting out colored sparks if memory served me well. “Are you afraid of me? Then why don’t you...you don’t know an offensive spell.” I smirked. “Not yet.”

**Wrap it up.**

I figured my height and insight to her life were more than petrifying her, so before she had a panic attack I knelt down so we were eye level with one another. This time when I spoke, I tried to be soft, like how I imagined shushing a frightened animal. “I don’t have a lot of time.” I had to at least introduce the idea of time to her. Her future version had been chasing the concept for several years. Who’s to say I didn’t introduce the idea? I took the Blood-Turner out of my inner pocket and held it up for her. “You see this? Well, it’s not working like it should.” _Hence my unexpected visit._

**I resent that.**

I bit my tongue. “I’ll be taken away in a minute, but if you haven’t begun yet, then you have to know… You have to go to Hogwarts as soon as you can. You’ll find everything you want to know about Oliver there,” _technically,_ “and when it’s the right time,” _decade, really,_ “you’ll find-”

I heard a soft pop and suddenly I was back in the train compartment, on my knees. A second later, the door slid open as Lily walked in holding two iced pumpkin juices and an armful of sweets. She furrowed her brow seeing me in such a weird spot. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” I cleared my throat. “Yeah. Just stretching out my legs.”

She giggled. “Sorry about falling asleep, you must be so stiff.”

I moved to sit opposite her as she settled down, offering me a pumpkin juice and a cauldron cake. “I’ll recover. You seemed like you needed to relax for once.”

Lily sighed and sipped at her drink. “I...of all the friends I’ve made at Hogwarts, none of them would’ve just let me digest that experience quietly. Goodness knows Marlene would demand answers and details ceaselessly, and Mary probably would’ve hit me.”

I didn’t know much about Marlene McKinnon but the description of Mary was dead on. “Of anyone I’ve ever met, you’re the only one who respects my privacy. It’s only fair I treat you in kind.”

I got the feeling her perception of me changed in that instant, but I wasn’t sure and didn’t really want to know if it was for the better or worse. “I think I’d like to talk about it out loud, if only to help process it… you don’t have to comment, or even listen, I just…”

“Go for it.” I said mildly, before taking a large bite of cauldron cake. I had my own details to sort out anyway.

**Such as?**

_What did you mean by having me covered?_

**There’s people who’d try to invade your thoughts the way you can, but so long as you’re under my protection-**

_Inhabitation._

**-then all anyone will get is a blank feeling. Like that guy back in December, and your sister just now; they might get your name or something random but no one can see your memories of all Time. It’s for our protection as much as there’s, ta tell ya the truth.**

_Cool. I think._

“-anyway I was on my way back when Mulciber stuck his head out and tried to get a rise out of me. I of course refused to quell under his verbal assault and when he realized this he jabbed his wand in my face and jinxed me.” Lily sighed at the memory, while I was still playing catch up on what she’d been talking about. “It wouldn’t stop and the more I struggled the harder the sobs came and I just knew the best thing would be to find a quiet place.”

“Is that your nickname for me?” I said, half joking.

Lily grinned slightly. “Sure. With the world being chaotic and falling into ruins, you’ll be the quiet place that makes some semblance of sense.” I felt chills as she said it, but otherwise gave no reaction.

“I suppose this is the part where you get back to your friends, right? They must be wondering where you’ve gone.” I’d eat bubotuber pus like porridge before admitting that I wanted her to stay.

“Maybe,” she replied. “But they’re big girls now, they can survive a day without me. Pepper imp?” I accepted one with a nod of thanks and allowed myself to relax a little when she popped her next question. “So...provided you did well on the exams, where do you see yourself in five years?”

_The me in five years will probably be toilet training...but I don’t think that’s a viable answer in this situation._

**Smart ass.**

“Well…after reviewing the pamphlets provided by the government, and surveying my own interests...I think I’ll find my true calling in breeding puffskeins.”

That answer earned me a splash of pumpkin juice as Lily snorted in a most undignified manner. After she finished coughing, she laughed loudly. “I don’t know why I expected a serious answer.”

I grimaced. “What do you mean? I think my future is filled with puffskeins. Why are you laughing? Evans?” A smile touched my face as she rolled around in her seat, gasping for air.

* * *

 

 

_Little over a month later_ … 

 

Trying to tiptoe around Black Manor was impossible, the wood floors screeched and groaned under every step, so everyone knew I was headed upstairs. My stomach churned like the sea in a storm as I argued internally with my own actions. I think what I hated the most about the entire affair was that I could not plead ignorance or naivete.

**You wanted answers, Kid.**

_I know! I know, just please stop talking._

I’d gone home with Alphard, and enjoyed the hours studying in the family library, learning everything from the wizard’s views of time travel and, per Crow’s instructions, a few undesirable topics in the deep, dark arts. In the afternoon I took to flying round the orchards, if for no other reason than to get some sunlight, and the evenings I spent with Alphard, either in comfortable silence or invested conversations.

Three days ago, I woke up to Kipsy hitting me in the face with a feather duster, and through hysterical squeaks, snorts and tears she announced that Alphard wouldn’t wake up. He was breathing still, but his complexion was drained of color and his hands were cold to the touch. I admitted him to St. Mungo’s immediately and had been staying with Orion and Burgie at the Manor ever since. I’d been so concerned about Alphard’s health, I had ignored the going’s on of the house while I was there.

 _But earlier_ … I shuddered.

 

_“You the one in Gryffindor?” Rabastan asked, before taking another swig of firewhiskey._

_“No.” I replied, wanting to be anywhere but sandwiched between the Lestrange brothers. One of them was married to Bella but I could never remember which one. Not that it mattered, it wasn’t as if they loved or even liked one another._

_“Really? You’re the bookworm?” he said incredulously. “You don’t look the type.”_

_Not sure if I should be insulted or complimented by that educated assessment, I merely shrugged and glanced around the sitting room. I’d just returned from St. Mungo’s and rather than disappearing into my room for the week, Burgie forbid me from climbing the stairs until she said otherwise and sent me into this very full room. The only sitting space was between Rabastan and Rodolphus and while I was just fine standing quietly in the corner, they decided they ought to know me better. In other words, I had no choice._

_The upper floors were relatively silent, aside from the odd shuffle of footfalls here and there, but at some point I began to wonder what was going on and why were all these strangers in my cousin’s house. Other than the Lestrange’s, their sitting room was littered with men and women in dark robes, most of them with the hoods pulled up to conceal their faces. I had just made up my mind to exit discreetly and find a decent cup of tea when someone directly over my head screamed bloody murder._

 

Standing outside of his room I raised my hand and knocked once or twice before opening the door and stepping inside quickly before the room's occupant could shout at me.

I had to bite my tongue to keep from hissing at the state my cousin was in. He was riddled with bruises, and there was blood on his face and hands, some dried, some not. “...I just heard. You alright?” It might not be his own blood, after all. But that somehow made the whole thing worse.

“Fan-effing-tastic,” Sirius growled in reply. “I’m this close—” he held up his thumb and forefinger merely a hair's breadth away from one another “—to blowing that banshee to smithereens!”

I knew acting sympathetic in this case would only serve to fuel his anger. He didn’t need my pity. So I shrugged and took a seat on the edge of his bed. His room was always a mess, but the bed remained mostly clean. Tonight his trunk had been taken out and was half packed. As soon as he realized I was alone and not there to hurt him, Sirius resumed throwing all his belongings into it. “No one could blame you…’cept perhaps Kreacher, but who asked him, right?” I glanced at the blood on his hands and grimaced. “But do you really want to be branded a murderer over that horrible woman?” _If you can call her that._

“You’ve seen the stuffed heads on the wall,” Sirius sneered, running a hand through his hair as he surveyed the mess for what he was missing. “It’s not like anyone would be surprised that another Black family turned on itself.”

I couldn’t stop staring at his hands. They themselves hadn’t been broken or cut, and the marks on his face seemed to be stains rather than wounds. He had a huge black eye and that could be from any number of hits, but it hadn’t been the thing to bleed so where else was he injured?

My gaze raked over his person slowly, careful not to miss a single detail. His denim jeans were torn and stained like the rest of him, but his shirt, which had some Muggle logo on the front, was fresh and clean.

A quick scan of the room and I spotted what he must’ve changed out of...well, what was left of it anyway. I don’t know what curse they hit him with but it was clear that his real injuries were in vital organ territory. They wanted him to hurt, to agonize, but live long enough to suffer. With a jolt I realized they’d tried to break him, so he would comply and bend to their will.

 

_I jumped to my feet and ran to the stairs, or I tried. Rudolphus seized the back of my robes and held me in place. But whatever he was saying to restrict my actions was nothing compared to the grumpy American voice in my head._

**_Kid! You can’t interfere with this one. This has to happen!_ **

_They sound like they’re dying!_

**_He’ll be okay. You can’t show deference today, you have to remain neutral. Leave the house if you have to just do not interfere!_ **

_He who._

**_What?_ **

_HE WHO?!_

**_Sirius. But you can’t—Kid!_ **

_I hexed Rudolphus in the face and ran, not for the stairs, but for the front door. Sirius’s screams followed me long after the door had shut and I was several houses away._

_I hate you._

**_I know, Kid._ **

 

Casting around for something to settle his churning mind, I settled for, “What is it Speckles always says?” I thought poking fun at James while quoting him might break through his haze of hate and I was right. Even as a human I swear his ears perked right up. “Fight fire with fire, but never sink to their level?” _I’m pretty sure he’s said something like that before. Like when the Slytherins fight with dark magic._

Sirius smirked slightly, his thinking along the same lines as my own. “Yeah...some old tosh like that…”

I couldn’t give my cousin answers. He was always too stubborn to listen unless he arrived there on his own. “Why does he say that?” _With proper nudging, of course._

He closed his eyes and sighed, knowing where I was going with this but answered me anyway. “Because if we want to beat them, we have to be better than them...but just once I’d love to win a fight with her.”

A few blurred images from my exposure to Time flashed before my mind’s eye as he said that. “Maybe you will, one day. But not this day…” I paused, resisting the part that had to come next.

**Go on.**

_I don’t want to lose him._

**He can stay and wither away inside. Or you can love him enough to let him live a good life.**

_He’s one of the only normal people left in my life._

**And if you want him to stay that way you’ll tell him like it is.**

“...it might be best if you didn’t stay here anymore, though.” I added at last, willing myself to not break down. I had to say this just right. “You can come stay with Dad and me, if you like.”

The offer was hollow. Alphard was still in the hospital and had shown no signs of recovering quickly. I was as trapped at the Manor as he’d ever been. But I had to give him the option, so he could find his own answer…

Sirius looked hopeful for a split second before reality set in. “She’d find me and drag me back here, probably leave me worse off than today...but you’re right. I need to get out now before they try and induct me again.” He looked at me directly, concern etched in his every detail. “How are they treating you?” Of course he wouldn’t know, we’d been kept apart for many reasons in the last few days. I could be forced to sleep upside down in the cellar, my ankles tied to the light fixture for all he knew. “Have they tried, you know, marking you..?”

 

_When I eventually returned to the Manor all was quiet. Well, mostly. As I climbed the stairs I distinctly heard someone crying. With no one to stop me I burst into Burgie’s private visiting room and saw my aunt and cousin standing over Sirius as he lay curled up on the floor, moaning softly as he trembled. “Please stop… Mother please..!”_

_Bellatrix chuckled and raised her wand high. “Cruci-”_

_“IMPERIO!” The curse flew from my mouth and shot from my wand in a flash, and Bella immediately tossed her wand away and moved back towards the window. My aunt turned on me, seeming to grow in height as she did so._

_“You dare curse her? With one of the three-?” She seemed to be short-circuiting in that twisted brain of hers. She couldn’t comprehend my anger, how badly I wanted to burn that manor of hers to the ground for torturing Sirius. That I couldn’t stop it from happening unless—_

_“Excellent.” A soft voice hissed from the dark corner of the room. Stepping into the light, I saw Bella’s ‘Lord’ Voldetort. His dark red eyes glittered as they surveyed the scene. “I knew you had greatness in you, Roman.”_

_I ignored him and moved across the room towards Sirius, wanting to try and reverse the damage that had been done. He was meant to live for many years after this day. But after only a few steps I felt as though my feet glued themselves to the floor._

_“Do not ignore me, boy,” said that soft, yet commanding voice._

**_Kid._ **

_Shut up._

**_But you-_ **

_I know!_

**_It’s gonna be alright. You’re under a god’s protection._ **

_Whoopie._

_“You disapprove of the way Sirius is being treated?” Voldemort was asking as Crow and I had our stint. “If you pledge loyalty to me, I promise we’ll never lay a hand, or a spell on him ever again.”_

_There it was. Just like Crow had said it would happen. Just like I’d seen it happen. I’d just proved I was powerful and enraged enough to pull off an Unforgivable curse, in front of the one person who would see the window of opportunity instead of a cause for fear. I had status, wealth and power. And according to the world, I had the blood status. In his eyes I was perfect._

_For all the wrong reasons._

_But still perfect._

 

“They want to...I can tell without them having to say a word…” _Here comes that hollow comfort again_. “But Dad won’t let them...not unless it’s something I want.” I heard Sirius exhale in relief as he took the bait. “Suffice to say, that doesn’t mean old Burgie’s gonna stop trying. She had me meet the Lestrange brothers the other day—charming. Quite charming.”

Sirius barked out a laugh at the sarcastic tone I’d brought to that statement. “You could come with me...get out from under their reign.” His offer was sincere, but the end result was impossible. Hard to get out from their reign when I was already ruled by a short, balding, rude, American-voiced—

**Hey! Back to the script!**

“I will, one day...but Dad needs me. I can’t just leave him with stuffy pricks like your mum to keep him company.”

“You’re not wrong,” Sirius sighed heavily, before getting to his feet to continue his messy packing. I supposed before my suggestion he’d planned on just heading to Hogwarts a month early, but now he threw in posters and pictures and anything he hadn’t permanently stuck to the wall, really.

Fighting every urge, I asked, “Where will you go?”

“Probably best if I don’t tell you,” he grunted. “My dear mother will bring hell upon you if she finds out you were involved. I’ll see you in a month’s time anyway, won’t I?”

 _If I don’t suffer a mental breakdown first._ “Pray to Merlin and Godric that she doesn’t kill me out of spite first, then yeah.”

He paused whilst stowing his wand in his back pocket. He’d noticed my tone. “You sure you don’t want to come?”

Turning down his offer felt like closing a dark curtain on the world of light, but it had to be done. “Positive. Someone’s got to look out for Reg.” I watched him hesitate, debating whether he was taking the cowards way out or not. If anything, I could feel relieved that my memory charm on him had worked. He didn’t remember anything from before when he’d been crying. He had no idea the lengths I’d gone to so he could even consider running away. But even with the door wide open, he still gave pause. And in that moment I knew he’d give up everything if it meant keeping me safe, as I had already done for him. “...I’ve always known how to handle Aunt Burg. It’s one of my many talents; don’t worry about me.” He still stood there, gazing at me. _Stupidly loyal dog. Not that I’m any better._ “Sirius. Go!”

He jumped into action, forgoing the pretense following the underage magic rule and packed his trunk in a jiffy. The locks clicked loudly in his suddenly empty room, leaving only his Gryffindor pride upon the walls where they would haunt and humiliate Walburga till her dying day. Another wave of his wand and he’d vanished his trunk and broomstick, likely to his destination, wherever that may be. “See you in a month.”

I watched him move to the fire and grab a handful of floo powder before throwing it in. Green flames surged to life, welcoming him as he stepped inside. With a last look at me, he cried, “The Leaky Cauldron!” And vanished in the blink of an eye.

It made sense. He’d probably travel to his real destination from a neutral location—especially since I wasn’t supposed to know. Oh, I had hunches but no real way of knowing exactly where he’d end up.

Sitting in his room, hearing the voices echo from downstairs of the strangers and suspicious people that had been invited here...I believe that was the moment my heart broke.

 

**_We gotta keep him safe._ **

_Looking up at Voldemort, I saw that he’d moved closer, his wand out and his expression hungry._

**_This is how it’s gotta be._ **

_They could kill Sirius now and I wouldn’t be able to stop it. They could kill me now and Crow would have a hissy fit and reset time but I still wouldn’t have a say. My reality only had one move forward._

_Voldemort was gazing evenly at me. “Do you swear to protect your arrogant cousin? To save his life?”_

_I closed my eyes._

  


_“I swear.”_

  



	23. Almost Normal

 

The visions were organizing themselves in my mind, the searing sensation on my arm was bearable, and Alphard had woken up from his coma. In a very real sense, my life was poised to begin my 6th year at Hogwarts. Balanced upon a knifes edge, undecidedly but ultimately doomed to fall one way or the other. 

Rather than suffer the train ride, risking the chance of someone carelessly bumping into my sensitive left side, I floo’d straight into Hogsmeade and enjoyed a brisk walk up to the castle. 

That’s a lie. I transformed and chased Hagrid’s chickens around for my own amusement. 

They were asking for it. 

Hagrid came out after a few minutes to chase me off, grumbling something about how he needed a dog to keep predators away. I was more concerned at how he seemed unbothered by the sight of a black panther in the highlands. Slinking off across the darkening grounds, I watched the steam engine approach the village, clearly defined by its plume of exhaust rising into the evening sky. Transforming just before I reached the stone steps, I made my way into the castle and almost collided with none other than Professor Dumbledore. 

“Ah, good evening Mr. Black,” he said warmly, chuckling at the startled expression on my face. “Were you late to King’s Cross this morning by accident or intentionally?” 

Not bothering to ask why or how he knew I hadn’t boarded the train and it was merely early—I answered, “Does it matter, sir?”

He gestured for me to follow him as he began to walk away from the front doors, and I did so, if a bit cautiously. “Well I should admit to being a little surprised when the castle’s barrier was crossed a bit prematurely, nevertheless there’s nothing wrong with a bit of ingenuity if you are in a tight spot. I only regret the time lost where you could catch up with your friends and classmates.”

He was subtly telling me that he knew when something was amiss in the castle, but finished by revealing how inept his observations could be. “For you to assume there’s anyone who would want to spend six hours on a train with me is bold and misguided, I’m afraid.” 

“Forgive me if I don’t believe that to be entirely true, Mr. Black.” He replied smartly. “Are you looking forward to your 6th year classes? What career are you hoping to chase after you graduate?”

He was speaking as if we met up for tea and had chats on a weekly basis, where as far as I was concerned, this was the first time he’d addressed me directly. I didn’t like his attention in the slightest. Why me? Why now? “Why do you ask?”

“As headmaster I care about all of my students, particularly those with such large amounts of unused talent. I can only hope you recognize and have plans for your future.”

_ If only you knew the half of it,  _ I thought bitterly. 

**I take offense to that, Kid** . 

_ Hush.  _ “I see,” I replied, even if I didn’t. “But you needn’t concern yourself with my life, sir. You might say I have my future laid out before me.”  _ With very specific instructions of how it wants to play out.  _

**Don’t make me come up there.**

“Indeed? Well then, what’ll it be for you, Mr. Black?”

Again, I didn’t like his insistence. “I suppose you’ll have to wait and see, sir.” 

He stopped walking. We’d made a kind of loop around the ground floor, and I could see the horseless carriages making their way towards the castle, while on the lake drifted about twenty boats. Dumbledore caught my eye and appeared to scan my face with his piercing blue gaze. “Roman, I want you to know that you can trust me.” 

**Careful.**

_ Why is he focusing on me? _

**This isn’t the first or the last time he’s tried to collect a student. You’ve got enough on your plate without worrying about this one** . The disdain in Crow’s voice was clear, and at this point I was more inclined to trust the god of Time than my headmaster. So, he was trying to make a connection with me, eh?

“I’m not sure what you mean by that, Professor.” I replied carefully. “Has there ever been a reason for me to believe otherwise?”

“Trust is a two-way street, as they say,” Dumbledore began, still looking at me as if my face were a riveting instruction manual. Were it not for Crow’s protection I’d be concerned about what he was trying to find in my head. “I should like to believe that you’d extend the same courtesy to me.”

I frowned at this, deciding to try and have a go at his thoughts and memories. What was he trying to accomplish? Focusing my ability only gained me a few blurred images of a young man in Slytherin robes, a glimpse of Professor Slughorn with blonder hair, and a clear of visage of myself. The me in his memory had a similar expression to the Slytherin boy, whoever the  hell  that was. Did the old man think history was repeating itself? 

**Like I said,** Crow whispered.  **Be careful.**

_ Or _ … I cleared my throat, feeling more like my 12 year old self than I had in years. “Well, since you’ve always been such a close confidant of mine, of course you can trust me. Oh wait—” I exaggerated a thoughtful expression. “—and I mean no disrespect by this sir, but unless I’m very much mistaken, you’ve never singled me out or taken notice of me for the last five years, and I’m not in enough awe of you to feel special during or after this odd encounter.” Students were crossing the entrance hall, and still I stood apart from them with the headmaster. He didn’t blink while I spoke, but I sensed rather than saw a change in his demeanor. Less gentle, more intense. 

“Mr. Black,” I noticed the renewal of my proper title, “it was never my intention to deceive you…”

**Except that it was.**

I grimaced and jumped my eyebrows. “Nevertheless, this is the impression you have given… I think I’ll forgo the welcoming feast. If you’ll excuse me,” with a sarcastic little bow, I walked past him towards the marble staircase, climbing several floors until I was back in the familiar west wing, on until I was safely within Ravenclaw Tower. 

**Good call.**

_ Thanks.  _

**He’s gonna try again.**

_ Of course he is.  _

* * *

 

The traditional choices of 6th and 7th year classes were based purely on the type of career a person wanted to pursue. I chose mine based purely on Crow’s whimsy. He claimed I’d need all of them later on but unfortunately I had very little to go on concerning that. In that respect, I could understand why Dumbledore would wonder what the devil kind of career I’d be chasing with classes all across the board. I came to understand that I could pursue a job as an auror, a wandmaker, a healer, a potioneer, a curse breaker, a botanist, and reach certain positions in the Department for International communications. Anyone looking at my course schedule would be confused, and that included myself. Professor Flitwick stared at it for a full six minutes that first morning before classes before handing it to me at long last with a reverent, “Good luck, Mr. Black,” before continuing on to Pan and Dork down the table. Damocles leaned across the table and snatched the bit of parchment out of my hands and gave it a hard look.

“You do know we’re allowed to have full free periods this year, right? Some might even say it’s recommended.” He held up a finger as he spotted a particular subject on my list. “Hang on, since when do they teach Alchemy at this school?”

“Since enough students put in a request to take it,” I replied, snatching my schedule back from him. “You’re welcome to jump on that wagon, as it were. First class isn’t until...this afternoon.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Well, I’ve got all the time in the world then, haven’t I?”

I coughed. “Only a suggestion—if you think you might get bored with all your free time.” 

Damocles jabbed his index finger in my face. “You always cough. You’re never sick. What  _ is _ that?”

I gave him a dark smile. “That’s for me to know, and the less intelligent to ponder. Good morning.”

Leaving him to splutter indignantly over his toast, I shouldered my bag and headed to my first lesson of the day: Herbology. 

Professor Sprout has already donned her goggles and dragonhide gloves by the time her 6th year class filtered into Greenhouse 12. Never having been in there before, several of us myself included took the opportunity to look around at the foreign plantlife festering in there. 

“Welcome back, those of you that survived,” she began briskly. “You may want to whip out your protective gear, today we are feeding one of the most dangerous plants known to wizardkind.”

“Feeding it what?” asked Alice, clearly not caring what the most dangerous plant could be. I imagine she was picturing Sprout feeding a student to the shrubbery and the idea made me smirk. 

“Just a moment, Ms. Fortesque, you’re ahead of the rest of us,” Professor Sprout said good-naturedly. “Gloves on, then? Right. Who can tell me by raise of hand—what the most dangerous plant in this particular greenhouse could be?”

Several people raised their hands, and it was Marlene McKinnon who was called upon to answer, “The Venomous Tentacula,” she stated clearly, then pointed at the large, spikey, green and many vined plant growing along the far wall. “One step too close and it will seize you and try to bite, puncture or strangle you.” 

“So, like a regular Tuesday, then,” Sirius called from the back of the class. I turned to get a look at him and felt relieved immediately. There was no stain of the night he had left, no tremor or shadow in his countenance; he was as full of swagger as the day he’d trundled into Transfiguration, informing everyone present he was in love with Professor McGonagall. He glanced my way and I caught a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. What was that about? 

Returning my attention to Sprout, the class went on as well as could be expected. We learned about Chizpurfles, a small, crab-like parasite that gave the Venomous Tentacula their nutrients and such. We learned that the VT could also expel toxins and flames depending on their environment, and we also learned through Roy that it was possible to be “allergic” to the deadly plant. He was excused from any and all future lessons interacting with the Venomous Tentacula, and as we were all dismissed I could have sworn I saw him smirking when he should have been suffering a serious bout of coughing and sneezing, (“a prelude to hundreds of boils all over my body”). I hadn’t given Roy Lockhart much attention for the past few years—due to his constant demand for it—but I sensed he’d developed an unhealthy tendency to lie. 

Watching him practically skip up the stone steps, I didn’t notice I wasn’t walking alone until arms landed about my shoulders, herding me along. “Where were you yesterday?” Sirius asked loudly. “We scoured the train quite thoroughly and saw neither hide nor hair of you!”

“Louder please,” I said through my teeth. “I don’t think the inhabitants of Hogsmeade heard you.” 

“Seriously mate,” said James on my other side. “Is there a secret compartment of the train because you owe it to us to share such information.” 

“Roman,” now Lily was speaking to me, from where she walked with Alice and Marlene. “Did you have a good summer?” 

My memories of the past few months flashed before my eyes in a heartbeat and I grimaced. “Not really, but that’s to be expected.” Knowing it was only polite to do so, I inquired about her summer. I saw the same amount of hesitance reflected in her body language. “It was...uneventful.” Without meaning to I saw her memories of summers past. Apparently she and Snape were neighbors, and given the incident after our DADA O.W.L., I could understand the kind of miserable summer they’d suffered through. If her parents had any sense they’d have gone on a foreign holiday…

“Here’s looking forward to a better year, eh?” I heard myself say, rather cheerfully for my normal state. Lily smiled and turned her head back to Marlene, who was nudging her ribs. 

Speaking of, James was poking me hard in the chest. “Oy! How’d you get her to talk to you? What kind of cologne are you using?” Then he crossed several lines and shoved his nose against my body, inhaling deeply. 

I shoved him back, running inside the castle in an effort to escape his further questions and demands. 

It was shaping up to be a very odd year indeed, and I would love nothing more than to end the narrative there and move on to a more interesting part of my story, however, the second I ran into the entrance hall, I tripped and fell on my back. When I opened my eyes I was staring at a large lake, glowing bluish green in a cave. Not seeing a proper entrance or mouth, I surmised that I was deep underground. 

_ I thought I told you to warn me when you were going to toss me through time! _

**Eh, too late now. Go get her!**

I squinted out across the luminescent water and spotted a girl struggling to keep her head above the water.  _ What the hell does she think she’s doing?! _ Already I was up and sprinting across the cave floor. 

**She probably thinks it’d be best to survive.**

_ Why doesn’t she swim? _

**She doesn’t know how.**

Tossing my Hogwarts robe to the side, knowing from experience it would only drag me down, I dived into the strange water and swam straight for her. She was splashing vigorously but futilely, as her head sank beneath the water and thanks to the glowing water being freakishly clear I could see her body sink down. Taking a huge breath I went after her, grabbing her wrist and pulling her towards me. Lian was still much younger in whatever year this was, probably still twelve, and I expected it to be easy to bring her back to the surface. 

I was wrong.

She kicked me away from her at least six times, whether on purpose or out of panic I may never know. In fact I wasn’t able to return to the shore with her until she passed out from lack of oxygen. Laying her on her back, coughing up water myself, I wracked my brain trying to remember a spell that would be helpful in this situation.

“ _ Invocagua!”  _ I said, sweeping my wand over her body from the lungs up to the mouth, trying not to recoil as the offending liquid evacuated itself from my sister. Yet still, she remained unconscious, so I pointed my wand at her chest and cried, “ _ Rennervate! _ ”

With a sudden gasp, Lian opened her eyes and jerked to life. After a few panicked breaths she focused her eyes on me and scooted away fearfully. “Who are you-?” Then there was a small light of recognition. “Wait, we’ve met before...kind of...what are you doing down here?”

“How about you tell me why you were drowning, and then we can discuss my decisions.” I said, slightly exasperated but mostly impatient. 

“I...I come down here a lot, to think. I was upset and I threw my wand into the water…” she glanced towards the center of the lake. “And then I tried to go get it…”

“Don’t you know how to swim?” I asked, already knowing the answer thanks to Crow. When she shook her head I added, “Why not?”

“I dunno, I never got around to it. But I wasn’t thinking-”

“Clearly.” I stood up and pointed my teak wand at the lake. “ _ Accio wand! _ ”

She stood too, dripping all over the stone floor and caught her wand deftly in her left hand, scowling up at me. “Why’d you say it aloud?”

“Huh?”

“Your spell. Why speak it? Aren’t you worried about the No-Majs hearing you?” 

I was baffled until I remembered that the version of my sister that had originally found me never used a verbal spell.  _ American wizards are hardcore _ , I thought, and then I remembered that I was technically American. “It’s just you and me now, so what’s the point?”

Lian shrugged. “I mean, you’d be in serious trouble if you were American. But you’re, British, aren’t you?”

**Grab your robe, Kid, we gotta run.**

I gathered up my Hogwarts robe at once, already feeling a tugging sensation around my navel. 12 year old Lian twirled her wand between us and I felt a sudden blast of warmth envelope my body from head to toe, drying out my clothes instantly. She then shuffled her feet, looking quizzically up at me as her mind thought a million things per second. “...Thanks for helping me. But what were you doing down here to begin with?”

“I knew you’d need me,” I replied, shrugging again. I wanted to say more, but a second later and I was back in the Entrance Hall of Hogwarts, and James Potter came charging out of nowhere, demanding an explanation as for how I got Lily Evans’ attention. 

_ You will warn me next time. _

**We’ll see.**

_ Crow! _

* * *

 

I want to say I gave taking up Alchemy as a subject a lot of thought. I want to say that I studied it over the summer so I wouldn’t get caught unawares in that first class that afternoon. I want to say all that and more, but for the sake of honest recall...I can’t.

What I can say is that when I walked into the small classroom off the 6th floor corridor, all of my  _ favorite  _ wizards and witches were present. Dorcas Meadowes, Pandora Twycross, Alice, a boy from Hufflepuff I didn’t know, Marlene McKinnon, Lily Evans, Allura Zabini, James Potter, and my own cousin. Joining him at the very back desk, placing my bag down as I settled I muttered, “Aren’t you in fifth year?”

Regulus shrugged. “Yeah, but not enough people were interested in your year, so Slughorn said I could sign up if I wanted. I’m sure you can figure out the rest on your own.”

I coughed, and he grinned, looking more like Sirius than anything. “Any idea who the teacher is? I didn’t see any new ones at the staff table,” I said without thinking. 

Alice turned in her chair to give me an annoyed look. “Well you wouldn’t, seeing as ye skipped out on dinner. And the train. And the whole bloody thing.”

Pandora was sitting beside her and turned her wide blue eyes on me. “I noticed that too. Where were you yesterday, Roman? Sick?”

“Of you,” Reg muttered under his breath, prompting me to jab my elbow into his ribcage. 

“Strange to see you without Sirius at your heels,” Marlene was saying to James at the front. “Why didn’t he sign up?”

James shrugged. “He said he didn’t see the point, or the sign-up sheet. It didn’t come with his letter.”

The Hufflepuff boy cleared his throat. “On that note, does anyone know why we received an invite to the class? Who even knew it was a subject at Hogwarts?” Now I recognized him; he wouldn’t put his quill down during the O.W.L’s, even after Flitwick called time. I think he was called Stebbins…

Lily pushed a strand of hair behind her ear as she looked up from the textbook. “I think it was based on our O.W.L scores.”

“Then what’s junior doing in here?” drawled Zabini, glancing over at Regulus.

“Ah, how wonderful,” Professor Dumbledore swept into the room. “I see you’ve all found the classroom. Your teacher will be here momentarily, but I wanted to take the opportunity to-” he paused when his eyes found Reg and I seated at the very back. I wiggled my eyebrows while my cousin made a rude gesture. “-congratulate you all on qualifying and rising to the occasion that is the rare study of Alchemy.”

“Who is our teacher going to be, sir?” McKinnon asked. 

There was a knock at the door and an old woman shuffled into the room. Had she not just knocked, I would have mistaken her for a ghost. She was so pale and while her hair was styled and well-looked after, it was bone-white. Still she carried herself like an aristocrat, her powder blue robes whispering softly against the stone floor as she drifted to the front of the classroom. Dumbledore smiled warmly at her, before bowing out to allow her to take his place at the front of the class. He did not leave, I noticed. He merely claimed the chair beside Zabini, resting his elbows on his knees as he focused on the ghostly woman. 

“Good afternoon,” her voice was deeper than I’d expected, strong and with the softest hint of an accent. “My name is Madame Flamel,” there were a few gasps around the room. “And I am deeply honored to teach you, for as long as you’ll tolerate me. Before we begin, if there are any preliminary questions, you may ask them now.”

Probably for the first time in his life, James’ hand slapped the air. “Are you in anyway related to Nicholas Flamel?”

Madame Flamel shook her head seriously. “I should hope not, as we have been married for over six hundred years.” 

Marlene raised her hand next. “So, you’re really immortal, then? It’s not just a fable?”

“Must I show a certificate of birth to prove otherwise?” she posed the question with great amounts of exasperation. When Marlene did not reply, Madame Flamel grimaced knowingly and glanced around the room. “Anything else?”

Regulus raised his hand no higher than his own shoulder and asked in the classic Black bored voice, “If your husband’s the acclaimed Alchemist, why isn’t he teaching the class?”

The woman in blue gave him a shrewd look. “How old are you?”

“Fifteen, marm.”

“So you’ve been studying magic for about five years now, possibly some tutoring at home by the look of you,” it was not a question. Her clear, nearly colorless eyes gave her the impression of seeing more than any human eye. I wondered for a moment if she was a Legilimens. “Would you say you’re proficient at the magic you have studied in that time?”

I had an idea of where she was going with this but it was too late to warn Reg. “Proficient enough to get into this advanced class, marm.”

Madame Flamel sniffed. “Do you know how old I am?” Reg shook his head, his grey eyes dark as he cottoned on to where she was going with this train of thought. “I am over six hundred years old. In all that time, I have studied the properties of Alchemy side by side with Nicholas...would you say that I am proficient enough to teach this class?” Reg mumbled under his breath and I resisted the urge to kick him under the desk. “What was that?”

In a clear voice, Reg repeated, “Be that as it may, you’re not the one who is famous for their prowess in the subject matter.”

Expecting her to snap or scowl at this, I was surprised to see Madame Flamel smile. It was not a kind smile, neither cruel. It was almost benign. “Well, Mr. Black-”  _ How does she know his name? _ “That is merely because for the past six centuries, the works of men tend to be favored over the labors of women.”

_ Flamel: 2. Regulus: 0. _

She held Reg’s gaze unwaveringly until he looked away with a soft grunt. Clasping her hands together she gazed around at the rest of the students. “Shall we begin?”

At the end of the double-period, I learned that I not only gained a new favorite professor, but also that Alchemy was one of the most confusing subjects I’d never heard of before. She talked about the four basic elements, about potioneering, something called chemistry, and somehow strayed into Transfiguration territory. By the time the bell rang I was seeing spots, my brain ached with the new information, and I was in desperate need of some water. 

Looking around at the rest of the class, I could tell that I was not alone in feeling like all my knowledge had been run over by a stampeding centaur. I overheard McKinnon ask Lily if it was too late to drop the class. (The reply to which was something along the lines of, “If you leave, Potter will sit next to me and then I really won’t get any work done!” and McKinnon’s irate response, “Not my problem!”)

“At least you didn’t pull anything stupid like get on the teacher’s bad side,” I said to Reg as we walked down the enchanted staircase together. “Oh wait, no, you did.”

“I was simply asking what everyone else was too cowardly to voice, and that’s with three Gryffindors in the room.” Reg snapped, rubbing at his temple with one hand and adjusting his book bag on his shoulder with the other.

“Uh huh.”

“He’s not wrong,” said a haughty voice from behind. “I know I was wondering why we got stuck with her. But at least she knows her business, I should hate to think I’m wasting my time.”

I glanced over my shoulder to look at Allura Zabini. In six years I’d never spoken to her, never had the urge to do so when passing her in the corridor, and yet she deemed now the appropriate time to speak to me, to Reg, who not two hours previously she’d referred to as ‘junior’. She was willowy, with raven colored hair, olive skinned and hooded eyes; her cheekbones were prominent but not in a bad way. She was actually kind of attrac-

**She’s still talking.**

I blinked, refocusing my attention on her voice as she prattled on about the lesson. “...she started harping on about that chemistry business-what in the name of Salazar is that supposed to be?”

“Something muggle related, I’d wager,” Reg replied, pausing as the staircase began to move beneath us. 

Zabini made a hissing sound. “She wouldn’t dare, would she? Filthy muggles can’t possibly have any sway upon such a powerfully magical art?”

Thinking of Jules I heard myself say, “You’d be surprised.”

“You think so?” Zabini asked, suddenly sounding highly interested. I got the impression she would be interested even if I was talking about manure. “Well, I do like surprises.” She leaned on the banister in an attempt to catch my eye, as my back was still facing her but she crept her way into my peripheral anyway. “We haven’t been properly introduced,”  _ Here we go _ … “My name is Allura.”

_ Huh. She didn’t use her surname as a way to impress me. _

**Well, she wouldn’t.**

_ Why not? _

**Don’t you have some dame to respond to?**

_ Right! _ “I was aware of that, despite our lack of interaction. The fact that you’re speaking to me now only reveals that you already know who I am, even without a  _ proper _ introduction.”

**You old charmer,** said Crow dryly.

_ Shut up. _ I wasn’t going to change my manner for anyone, much less a pretty face. The staircase rested upon a new landing, which led to the third floor. Reg was hiding a smirk but not well enough, though it technically didn’t matter because Zabini was focusing all her attention on me. “Not sure I deserved that manner of address, Black,” she said loftily, her gaze flicking down to my feet then travelling up to my face again. “Most people would be flattered by someone like me keeping tabs on them.”

“I think you’ll find I’m not  _ most  _ people, Zabini,” I replied simply, feeling slightly irritated when her eyes raked over me again.

“Indeed,” she wasn’t smiling, but she was happy, that much was obvious through my Legilimency. Before I could be bothered to investigate  _ why _ , she said, “Well then, what’s your next class, or have you a free period until dinner?” 

“I have to go to potions,” I answered, a bit confused as to why she wanted to know. For some reason, I kept remembering Mary punching me in the arm and telling me that as observant as I was, I was slightly dense.  _ You’re such a boy! _ was the exact phrase, I believe.

“Excellent. We can walk together.” Zabini reached for my arm, so I dodged away down the corridor--Regulus had long since escaped by then. She followed after me with a weird look on her face. “A gentleman would escort a lady, Mr. Black.”

**Yeah, a gentleman would. Too bad we ain’t got one of those.**

She practically chased me to Slughorn’s class, to which we were both late. Professor Slughorn made no comment, apparently too busy discussing seating arrangements with Lily, who looked downright indignant that she was somehow seated beside James. Sirius looked equally if not more upset from where he was sitting with Bulstrode. Remus and Damocles were sending one another appraising stares, and then there was Pan and Snape seated in the very back. Walking inside felt like trespassing upon a warzone, the very air was electrified with tensions and unvoiced disagreements. Zabini cleared her throat as she stalked gracefully behind me. “Professor, what’s going on here?”

Slughorn looked up from Lily’s complaints and beamed at the sight of her, looking right through me, I might add. “Arranged seats for this year. You’ll be seated right behind Mr. Potter and Ms. Evans, beside-” he paused, and I immediately knew why. Saying Mr. Black would be confusing, because he had both Sirius and myself present in his class. But then he wanted to say my name, but he couldn’t remember what it was.  _ That’s what you get when you favor one half of the class over the other. _

Still, it couldn’t be Sirius, as he was seated on the opposite end of the class. Moving to the desk, I dropped my bag with a deafening note of finality, sending a sarcastic little grimace at the potions master. “Shall we begin?”

Zabini took the seat beside me, taking out her textbook and scales as Slughorn welcomed everyone to Advanced Potions. “He’s a rubbish teacher but if you smile pretty I think you’ll find he gives you a better grade.”

I showed her my teeth whilst giving my best dead-inside expression. “Like this?” She pursed her lips and nodded seriously. 

“Exactly.”

At that point we were shushed by Evans, who was still in a bad temper after losing a (in her opinion) well-reasoned argument with one of her favorite teachers. It didn’t help that James was leaning back on the two hind legs of his chair. I thought of about ten different spells that would both make him fall over and possibly land me in detention. Dimly aware that Slughorn had stopped talking, I jerked in my seat when Zabini poked her wand into my leg. 

“Ow!”

“Were you listening?” she asked tersely. 

“What does it matter?”

Zabini was already flipping through her copy of  _ Advanced Potionmaking _ . “He wants us to brew the  _ Draught of Living Death. _ No instructions, just do your best.” She gave me a very skeptical look. “You can find your way around a cauldron, right?”

I ignored her and opened my own textbook, locating the right page and perused the ingredients and instructions. “Lovely.”

James was muttering in front of me. “What in the world-?”

Beside him, Lily grunted. “What did you expect? A swelling solution?” She was already on step two, prompting me to move to the cupboard for the necessary ingredients, Zabini and the rest of the class at my heels. 

When I returned to my desk, James was saying, “I was only wondering.”

“I’m sure it’s all done in a very humane and carefully thought out manner!” Lily said, clearly ruffled over whatever he had wondered over. A quick peek in his thought process revealed he’d been wondering how and why Hogwarts had such a large supply of sloth brains.

“Of course you would, you like seeing the best in everyone,” James stated, adding powdered root of asphodel.

That caused Lily to stutter for a few seconds and then she fired back, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

_ She thinks he’s about to pull her leg, _ I realized quietly. It wasn’t a big leap, as that’s what he, Sirius and Remus have been doing to people for six years now.

James shrugged, not looking at her. “Nothing, just saying the truth.”

She scoffed to herself. “That’ll be the day.”

Zabini snapped her fingers under my face, as I’d been watching the pair and hadn’t made any progress with my potion. At first I was annoyed, why should she care, but then I spotted Slughorn drifting in our direction and got the gist. After the first half hour, the first incident occurred. Sirius ‘accidentally’ splashed the orange substance of his half-completed potion onto Bulstrode, who then ‘accidentally’ punched him in the face before fainting. Slughorn declared he’d return after sending the pair of them to the hospital wing, and thus we were left alone with our would-be dangerous potions.

At least four prefects were present including myself, so I didn’t think too much trouble would occur. Especially when trouble’s other half had been excused due to a bloody nose.

Zabini had a strange look of triumph on her face after the three had gone. When she caught me giving her a questioning stare she said, “Wonder if she broke his nose. Might deflate his oversized ego if she did.”

Without turning to look, Lily said, “If that’s all it takes, someone ought to break Potter’s nose.”

“Evans, I’m right here.”

She ignored him and turned to look at me. “Would you be up for the task, Roman?”

“No.” I said without hesitating. What was with her attitude? She was acting like...like James, who was not acting the way he normally had in the past.  _ Did something go wrong with the timeline? _

**Nope.**

_ Then what’s going on? _

**Hormones.**

_ Great. _

“That was quick,” Lily blinked. “Why not?”

I gave her a patient look, glanced at the back of James thick head and then said, “Because he’s trying to be polite, here. The only one acting like an arse is you, Evans.” She opened her mouth in shock at my language but I wasn’t done. “I don’t care how awful your summer was or how guilty you feel, you have no excuse to continue believing James is, what is the phrase, an arrogant toerag.” 

The whole room had gone very quiet, only the bubbling potions and small fires could be heard as everyone listened in on this conversation. Or scolding.

James had turned round to look at me with wide eyes, before his protective instincts flared up. “You apologize to her right now, Roman!”

Gazing steadily back, I said, “For what? Being honest?”

He wanted to be stern with me but I think he knew ultimately he couldn’t win with words against me so he changed tune slightly. “Well,” he shrugged. “If nothing else, for making it awkward.”

I sniffed. “That’s on you two. Argue like a married couple on your own time, please, I’m trying to make the most potent sleeping potion in the world, thank you.” Refusing to speak anymore on the matter I focused all my efforts and attentions on the assignment.

Slughorn returned fifteen minutes before the end of the period and checked on our disastrous attempts one at a time. Only one of us had been able to make a successful result, and wonder of all wonders, it was Pandora Twycross. She smiled serenely under Slughorn’s praises, unaware of Snape scowling at her over his cauldron, his unfinished potion containing eight extra ingredients, including his own fingernails and shedded strands of long, greasy hair. 

Under her breath I heard Zabini declare, “Sweet Merlin he’s going to be intolerable later…”

“What’s the worst he could do?” I whispered. “Wipe his nose on someone?”

She shuddered at the idea. “Oh he can and will do so much worse. He’s always had a terrible temper. It used to be directed at your cousin and such, but there’s no telling what he’ll do to your housemate.”

I frowned. “Because she beat him in potions?” Zabini nodded her head. “Well, that’s a bit much.”

“I’d keep an eye on her for the rest of the night,” she said warningly, then after a quick reflection added, “but not too close of an eye.”

The bell rang and after vanishing what remained of my potion, I began to pack up my things in a hurry. I hadn’t moved two inches from the desk when Zabini tapped my shoulder firmly. I was about to tell her I wasn’t a gentleman but she was already gesturing towards Pan, who was still gathering up her scales, unaware of Snape fidgeting with his wand behind her back. Dodging around Remus and James, I scooped all of Pandora’s items and shoveled them carelessly into her rucksack. She blinked in surprise. 

“Oh, well thank you but I had it handled-” she was saying while I glared warningly at Snape. The spells he was thinking of were all in Dark magic territory and the idea of any of them hitting Twycross were abhorrent to me. She was innocent, and apparently secretly brilliant; she didn’t deserve some bratty Slytherin’s wrath. 

I shouldered her bag, still glaring at Snape, grabbed Pandora by her hand and pulled her out of the dungeons and all the way to dinner. 

And  _ that _ is how the rumor of us dating got started. 


	24. Not in Control

 

The first Hogsmeade visit couldn’t come quickly enough, and I say that because I couldn’t wait for the castle to be emptied somewhat. For weeks, at every turn I had whispers and giggles following my footsteps. Crow wasn’t any help or solace, he found the whole thing funny. Sirius and James’ favorite new joke was telling everyone that I was full of animal magnetism, so of course a beautiful witch such as Pan couldn’t resist. Some people were brazen enough to congratulate me to my face, saying that it was a good match. Some people, girls mostly, insisted I could do better. Some confused bloke thought I wasn’t into girls and declared that loudly during study hall. 

But that was just the rest of the school. The torment that transpired in the sanctity of Ravenclaw Tower was even worse. A few days after the initial rumor began, Roy jumped on a table and pointed dramatically as Pan and I came into the common room. (She’d been stumped by the eagle’s question until I showed up.) “WELL I HOPE YOU TWO LOVEBIRDS ARE HAPPY!” 

I—who had been subjected to call outs and humiliating situations before ( _ Sirius _ ) merely dropped my bag onto a chair and replied, “Absolutely thrilled.”

Pan on the other hand had blinked several times, her fair skin turning a shade of magenta as blood heated her cheeks. “W-What? Why?”

“BECAUSE, SWEET LADY,” Roy shouted, pointing at Quirinus, who was quivering in the corner as he hid behind his book. “IN YOUR BLINDLY TOSSED AFFECTIONS YOU HAVE BROKEN THE HEART OF FELLOW FRIEND AND CLASSMATE, MISTER QUIRINUS QUANTITATIVE QUIRRELL!”

Pandora clapped her hands over her mouth and turned a pair of rounded blue eyes on me, as if to ask how we could do such a thing. I gave her a patient but irked look to remind her that we hadn’t done anything of the kind.

Now if we sat apart in the common room, people would ask if we were in a fight, what had gone wrong in paradise, and other such nonsensical things. But! On the other hand, if we sat together (we tried once, thinking the pestering busybodies would stop: we were wrong) we would receive jeers and disturbing noises as people asked for us to stop rubbing our “happiness” in their faces. 

I was six seconds from stealing James’s cloak when the Hogsmeade date finally arrived. 

Midway through breakfast someone with long hair, heeled boots and a scent of citrus perfume sat close to my right side. “Going to the Village with your  _ girlfriend, _ Black?”

“Not my girlfriend, Zabini, as you well know.” I blamed her for the entire affair, and made certain that she knew it at every turn. “And I had rather thought I would stay on the grounds. Get away from everyone.”

Zabini scoffed. “You’re too predictable, Black. Being annoyed about what others think only encourages these dull people to think louder. Do something unexpected, something nobody would see coming.”

“What is it about me that makes you think I need social advice from an elitist like you?” I asked, pouring myself some more water. 

“It’s things like that,” she declared. “The way you talk without any care for how you might be perceived.” 

“You just said I shouldn’t be annoyed by others, now I have to care what they think?”

“Being on top isn’t about not caring, it’s about curving the population to revere and fear you at the same time.” Zabini stole a piece of bacon from Damocles’ plate when he wasn’t looking. 

“You say curving and somehow I hear manipulating.” 

She smiled coyly. “Odd.” 

There was a pause before either of us spoke again, and on my part it was mainly due to Crow sniggering in my head. 

_ What’s so funny! _

**You’ve seen the future, you tell me.**

_ I haven’t exactly sorted it all out _ . 

**Then I won’t spoil it for you.**

“So,” Zabini began. “Hogsmeade?”

“Well,” I turned to straddle the bench, prepared to list reasons 1-10 why I wouldn’t go anywhere with her, let alone the village, when several things happened at once. 

Thanks to the usual chatter of a Saturday’s breakfast, I hadn’t been clued into the argument/rejection happening just behind me at the Gryffindor table. When I turned to Zabini, someone had risen to their feet, and—thinking quickly—grabbed the nearest bloke.  _ Mwa.  _ Just as reason one was about to fall from my lips, I was hoisted up and the next thing I heard was, “Because I’m going with  _ him _ !”

I stared at the table under the red banner, perturbed by the faces looking back at me. Sirius, Remus and Peter were gaping, Mary and McKinnon looked shocked, but they were nothing compared to James, who was on his feet, on the other side of the table at least, but he was glaring at me as though I’d just said something rude about his mother. I didn’t even have to check my arm to know it was Lily who had selected me. 

I was essentially faced with two options. I could disentangle myself, deny the insinuation, and leave her looking foolish whilst I stalked from the hall alone. Or…

I slid my arm out of Lily’s grasp and placed it around her shoulders, wearing a bored but defiant expression to the onlookers. “Got a problem with that, Potter?” 

His nostrils flared. “I don’t believe it.”

I coughed. “Well you should.”

“You’re dating Twycross,” he said accusingly. 

“Am I?” I swiveled my head to find where Pan was chatting with Dork. “Oy! Pandora! Are you my girlfriend?”

She gave a start in surprise but after inspecting my situation she called back, “Nope!”

I turned back to James, who was looking less sure of himself. “There you go.” Nudging Lily, I walked with her from the hall, a bit briskly to escape the explosion that would be Mr. Potter’s mind. 

She was proper embarrassed by the time we reached the marble staircase. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t think you would break up with Pandora for me—!”

“I didn’t. We were never actually together,” I replied flatly, wondering just how many people had really believed the stupid rumor. “Care to explain what just happened? If I’m going to be murdered later I’d like to know why.” 

With her cheeks a shade of red to match her hair, Lily began, “He wouldn’t stop pestering me—I mean he always asks me to Hogsmeade or on a date, anything, but he was being more persistent this week than usual.” Saying that about the boy who had convinced the house-elves to arrange her food, laundry and bedspread to say ‘Please go out with James Potter’, in our fourth year four a whole month, said quite a bit. “Just now he was practically begging and couldn’t seem to take the usual no for an answer and I knew you had stood up to him quite a few times and I didn’t think I just spoke—you don’t have to go anywhere or do anything with me, really I’m just grateful you shut him up.” She laughed in relief, and again I was staring down a few options. 

I could let it go, have the both of us walk free and with no strings attached. Or…

I leered down at her, my arm still resting around her shoulders. “Well, if you want him to shut up for good, then I’d say you owe me a date to Hogsmeade.” 

The look on her face was priceless. It was only made slightly better by Crow howling with laughter in the back of my mind. 

**I’ve created a monster!**

_ Scared? _

**Proud!**

Was I interested in having a girlfriend? Not particularly, especially considering that I wasn’t long for this era, and was doomed to snap through time for the foreseeable future. Was I intrigued by the idea of sticking it to James Potter? Hell yes I was.

I waited patiently for Lily to recover her senses and voice, which admittedly took several minutes. But when she did speak, at first it was a jumble of nonsense. 

_ I think I broke her.  _

**I think you did too. That’s not good.**

“Are you being serious?” she finally managed to say. “You want to go on a date with me?”

I gave her my most innocent expression, which was more of a blank stare than anything. “Is that really so surprising?” I glanced over her head back towards the great hall. “I mean, I could always send you back in there.”

She seized the front of my robes and dragged me up the marble staircase, not pausing or letting go until we reached the landing. “Meet me at the double doors in twenty minutes.”

I grinned. “So demanding.”

She sent me a defiant glare, and in doing so showed her determination and stubbornness. So, she really was a Gryffindor after all. “Roman Black, I’m going to date the crap out of you!”

 

-

 

I’d never been fond of touching people. There were exceptions--like when I was having a laugh, but when Lily insisted we walk to the village holding hands, I felt distinctly uncomfortable. She seemed to be enjoying herself, though, she asked me about classes and talked about her own. For a good ten minutes we complained about Flamel’s habit of pop quizzes. She was convinced that they were on the schedule, but Madame forgot to give us a head’s up. 

As we neared the square of Hogsmeade, she turned to look up at me and asked, “So, Honeydukes?”

I exhaled in relief. “For a moment I thought you were going to suggest that pink place they opened last year.”

Lily squinted. “Madam Puddifoot’s?”

I shrugged. “I dunno what it’s called. Forget I said anything,” leading her into the sweet shop, at the first whiff of sugar I felt like I was coming down with a toothache. I enjoyed sweets to a point growing up but recently I had no desire for them whatsoever. I liked black licorice or dark chocolate, but beyond that, candied items made me nauseous. 

The case was not so with Lily Evans. One step over the threshold and her mind was spinning with what she wanted. Her emerald eyes darted all around the walls and shelves and yet she didn’t let go of my hand or reach for any of them. Instead she turned to me and said, “So.”

“So..?”

“This is a date,” she began. 

“You’re only just noticing?” I said before I could stop myself. 

“How about we pick items out for one another? Try and see how well we-“

“-know each other? Evans,” I interjected. “I actively ignore other people. This won’t end well.”

“Yeah, but you’re very observant according to Mary,” she grinned as she added, “and you just finished my sentence.” 

“Maybe. But I bet you can’t find five things I’d like in this shop.”

“And what if I can prove you wrong?” She asked challengingly, and immediately I spotted an opportunity. 

**Oho.**

“If you can find five things I like in Honeydukes  _ without help _ , I will do whatever you ask of me for an entire week,” I declared, taking note of how huge her eyes got as I did so. “But-! If you can’t...you have to ask out James Potter-”

“What!” Lily yelped. 

“-at a time of  _ my _ choosing.” I finished, actually grinning now.  _ This dating business is kinda fun.  _

**This isn’t dating, Kid. This is her worst nightmare.**

_ Because she can’t win? _

**Only cuz you don’t like anything.**

I looked down at the stubborn redhead. “Do we have a deal?” 

She looked torn for quite a long while, before finally saying, “Yes, on one condition.”

“Which is?”

“You still have to find five things that I like, with according consequences.”

**I like this one.**

“Such as?” I asked in a bored voice. A double bet, I might’ve known…she did belong to the same house as Sirius after all, and he was the most devious person I knew (aside from myself and Jules.)

“If you can, I’ll do whatever you ask of me for a week—it’s only fair. But! If you can’t, you have to convince Dorcas Meadowes to go on three dates with you.” 

My initial reaction was a phrase Jules had used, but it’s neither polite nor worthy of a gentleman’s mind so I shan’t repeat it here. 

**She’s good.**

_ I’m better.  _

**Only cuz you cheat.**

_ Excuse me, I’m simply utilizing all my resources.  _

**If she’s gotta figure you out** **_without help_ ** **, how come it’s okay for you to do it?**

_...because I’m only supposed to be in the timeline but not a main headline? _

**Nice try. No peeking.**

_ What’re you gonna do? _

“Deal,” I heard myself say, and seconds later Lily and I shook hands. Then she was off, scanning the shelves like a hawk. I focused my ability on her head and-

**AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH-AAH-AAH-AHI’M HOOKED ON A FEELIN’ BAH-BAH-NAH NAH! AHM HIGH ON BELIEVIN’ BAH BAH NAH DA! THAT YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH—**

Needless to say, I suddenly couldn’t focus at all. Crow was shout-singing off-key and humming what had to be the entire brass section of an orchestra. 

But how hard could selecting a few sweets for a girl be? She suggested this place, she probably loved most of the contents. Where had she looked when we first entered the shop? 

She was going to lose, no doubt in my head, but I didn’t want to lose to her. Dork would sooner maim me than date me. 

_ You were observant before you knew you were a Legilimens, _ I reminded myself.  _ You can do this _ …

**BUT I DONT NEED NO CURE I JUST STAY AFFECTING IF I CAN FOR SURE!!!!**

Ten minutes later we came together, five carefully selected items hidden behind our backs. “You first,” I said before she could say the same to me. 

Lily bit her lip, not appearing half as confident now. “Alright...so I picked out a cauldron cake, a licorice wand, Bertie Botts, a sugar quill and a pack of exploding bonbons.” 

**Very generic items.**

_ She doesn’t know me at all.  _

**No one does, Kid. That’s the point.**

_ Still, I did wonder… _ I think Lily could gather from my expression that none of the items gave me any amount of glee but she waited anyway to see if I was pulling a fake-out. “Well?”

“I suppose I’d eat the licorice,”  _ even if its the wrong kind,  _ “but not the rest. Sorry, Evans.”

She sighed. “Well I guess I had that coming. But you still have to pass me.” 

Using a clever bit of levitation magic, each sweet popped out of the bag on its own as I listed off. “As it happens, I chose a sugar quill for you because when you’re thinking in study hall you suck on the end of your quill. Also some fizzing whizzbees because your eyes were immediately drawn to them the second you walked through that door. A levitating sherbet ball because you lingered over them for far too long whilst looking for me. A chocolate frog because you like the information on famous wizards and witches you’ve never heard of, and some toffee.”

“Why toffee?” She asked. 

“I dunno, everyone says they like toffee.” I replied with a shrug. 

Lily looked astounded, but also smug. “Sugar quill, whizzbees and chocolate frog is spot on but toffee gets stuck in my teeth and I’ve never tried a sherbet ball before so I don’t know that I do or don’t like it. Sorry Roman, but—” she broke off when I flicked my wand and several more quills, whizbees, and frogs came floating out of the bag. “—hey!”

“You never said we had to stop at five, and there were no parameters on quantity of each item.” I raised my eyebrows. “Are you trying to go back on our deal, Evans?”

“You cheated,” she scoffed. 

“I like to think of it as thinking outside the box,” I replied. “It’s a Ravenclaw thing, I suppose.” 

“You little-!” She chased me round the shop until the owner, Mr. Plume, shouted at us and booted us outside. “Great. Now I can never go back.”

“Sure you can—just dye your hair or take a swig of Polyjuice—they’ll never know.” 

“Very funny,” She swatted at my arm. 

“Accept your defeat with grace, m’dear,” I said in a haughty voice I normally reserved for impersonating elitists. 

“I want to,” Lily said in a similar voice. “But I’m afraid that’s not the Gryffindor way!” And then she ran away from me, pausing a few feet away to see if I was behind her. I wasn’t. 

Squinting at her I said, “What are you doing?”

“I thought you’d come after me,” she replied sheepishly, walking back to my side. 

“Why? I know where your common room is,” I reasoned. “Hell, I even slept in there when I was twelve.” 

“What? Why?”

Sighing, I explained how back in our first year, Sirius was seen as such a disgrace by my aunt that he was sent back to school for the winter break. “And I know what he turns into when he’s alone for too long so I came back as well and together we ruled Gryffindor tower until everyone came back to school.”

We’d walked in silence for a bit until we reached the perimeter of the old shack on the edge of the village. Lily finally said, “I didn’t know it was that bad at home for Sirius… I mean, I knew your whole family has been in Slytherin with the exception of you two but he’s always so loud and full of swagger, charisma...I don’t think anyone in our year would look at him and think his personal life is terrible.”

“Don’t feel too sorry for him, he’d kill me.” I warned. “The last thing Sirius wants is pity. Why’d you think he gives off such a well-put together presence?”  _ Not to mention he ran away from his abusive mother and the dark wizard trying to force him into submission.  _

Lily nodded. “I suppose that makes sense, but Roman—” she touched my forearm, my left forearm and I didn’t think I sort of reacted. I hissed softly and jerked my arm out of her reach, regretting it when her eyebrows raised and her eyes narrowed. “—are you injured? Let me see,” she went to grab my sleeve but I stepped away from her quickly, holding my left arm across my chest. 

“It’s nothing,” I said, afraid my voice was too harsh to be convincing. “I burned myself during potions—my skins just sensitive.” 

“Did you go to Madam Pomfrey?” Lily asked, no longer trying to grab me but still looked concerned. 

“Yes,” I lied again, if only to shut her up. She couldn’t see what was really hurting me—no one could. For even though several moments had passed since the initial touch, the mark that had been burned into my flesh still pulsed angrily beneath my sleeve. I added, “Sorry, I’m not upset with you it just—caught me off guard,” in an attempt to soothe her concern and soft suspicion that I was lying to her. Which I was. 

Sensing correctly that I wanted to drop the matter, Lily said, “That’s okay, I won’t mention it again…if…”

“Oh no,” I grumbled. “If what?”

She raised her eyebrows, her confident and smug expression back in full glory. “Oh, I think you know.” 

**Can we keep her?**

_ No. _

She was laughing and reached to take my hand in hers again when a streak of purple light shot between our fingertips. The spell hit the fence surrounding the old shack and we watched as the post shrivelled and died before turning into dust. I grabbed Lily and shoved her behind me, my wand out and pointed at the spot the spell had originated from. 

“What’s going on?” she was saying in a confused and alarmed voice. 

“Get out your wand.” I said calmly but tersely. My eyes were scanning the surrounding trees expecting the worst, but when I saw him dart out from behind a large stone to hide in the shadow of a spruce, I was less afraid and more irate. 

_ Still, what kind of spell does that? _

**Dark magic.**

_ Nooooooooo, really? _

**Focus!**

I waited, my eyes trained on the shadow where he thought he was hiding so well. Lily had taken out her wand but was still confused because she hadn’t yet realized why or who had attacked us. “Roman? What’s-” finally he stepped out, his wand arm shaking as he pointed it at me. Lily sounded impatient as she called, “What are you doing here, Snape?”

Severus ignored her, he was still glaring at me. “Get away from her, Black!”

I took a deep breath. “I have no quarrel with you, Severus. At the end of last year I was the only person who defended you. Lower your wand and leave now, and I’ll forget you were ever here.”

He fired another purple spell, but this time I was ready. “ _ Malus Protego! _ ” A wall of light materialized in front of me, dispersing when the dark spell hit, but also diffusing it completely. Rather than put two and two together--to my knowledge, Snape had never taken Arithmancy--he seemed further enraged and fired hex after jinx after curse, all of which I blocked whilst also keeping a fiery redhead safely behind my back.

“Let me help!”

_ And be collateral damage? Not likely. _ “You’re scaring the lady, Snape.”

He didn’t seem to care after two minutes of trying to hex my head off. 

**He’s gonna hit her.**

_ He wouldn’t dare, and he can barely get past me. _

**She’s not gonna hide behind you, she’s already halfway to him!**

Glancing left I saw with a jolt that Crow was right. Lily was trying to approach him with her hands raised in a surrendering gesture. “Stop! Please!”

**He’s gonna think he’s won but to make sure you learn your lesson he’s gonna curse you, but it’s gonna hit her. I’ll give you the incantation to heal-where do you think you’re going?**

I ran across the grass to catch up to Lily, watching as Snapes cold eyes lost any remaining light in them. “You get your hands off of her-! You bastard! _Sectumsempra!_ ” I hugged Lily, steering her around and shielded her with my body just in time to take the hit full-on. I didn’t know what the curse was, but from the fact that Crow-who-usually-watches-quietly-ish-from-the-sidelines not only warned me but tried to plan my next move for me was enough to convince me that it was bad.

Lily screamed and fired a hex at Snape while trying to keep me propped up. My ears were ringing and I felt a powerful force stab into my body from all sides. My back in particular felt as though Snape had sunk a large sword into my spine. Other such cuts and splits rent my flesh and bathed the grass in my blood. 

Distantly I heard others shouting my name, others of the male variety, but I was so deeply in shock I couldn’t remember who they belonged to. 

I would remember one voice, a grouchy, graveled voice right before  the whole world went fuzzy.  **You idiot.**

 

\--

 

Disclaimer: I might be an idiot. But at least I wasn’t Snape. That guy got his butt suspended--yes I acknowledge that I also got suspended the previous year, but that was for something out of my control, and technically it was only two weeks out of school. Snape was gone for six. 

A lot of people might argue that he ought to have been expelled, like me, I would like to argue that almost killing me with an experimental, invented spell, ought to warrant for complete life-ruining consequences, but I suppose Albus Dumbledore was more forgiving than I. 

Essentially what had happened that day in Hogsmeade was that while Lily and I thought we were alone, we were in fact being followed by at least ten different people. Snape was the only one enraged enough to attack, the rest had been Lily’s girlfriends--nosy and giggly, while four of them had of course been my cousin and his friends. I guess making a scene in the great hall wasn’t enough to convince anyone anymore. They’d stalked us around the village trying to prove that we weren’t actually on a date--Lily’s insistence that we hold hands the entire time had actually convinced half of them. Had she known we were being watched?

Probably.

As mentioned previously: I might be an idiot.

But anyways, once Snape snapped, James and Sirius joined the fray after I went down and subdued Snape. Remus and McKinnon tried to stabilize me but I was beyond a simple band aid. I died out there by the old shack. I’m recording my thoughts from beyond the grave. Crow will forever be trapped- I’m sorry, that’s a cruel joke. Luckily the teachers enjoy the Hogsmeade visits just as much as the students or I would’ve been toast.

I don’t recall witnessing any of those particulars, though everyone present claims I was somewhat conscious. According to Remus, who had only tagged along to keep James from tackling me from behind, as I struggled against the spell I kept murmuring odd phrases like, “You never warn me” and “I had to do something” and also I used some colorful language to describe a crow.

“It would’ve been funny if you hadn’t been in such a critical condition,” he told me with a sheepish grin. “Sirius says you’re afraid of dogs, but do you also have a problem with crows?”

I glared at Sirius as I drank the potion forced upon me by the nurse. It smelled of copper and regret but presumably it would replenish my blood and help me to leave the hospital wing by honest means. I won’t deny I’d thought of escaping in the fashion of my sister by jumping out the window. It had only been two days, and I was so bored. 

Crow had given me the cold shoulder, so to speak. Since his sudden and specific instructions for how I was to rescue Lily Evans from such a violent spell, and my blatant disregard of his commands and wishes, the deity had fallen silent. 

He wasn’t gone; I wasn’t that lucky. I got the feeling he was waiting for me to realize what I'd done wrong...which was difficult because I didn't think I had.

Remus had come after classes to give me my homework, and he was shortly followed by Sirius, James and Lily. (Apparently blood made Peter feel squeamish.) 

The nurse stepped away to attend to some idiot who’d gotten hit by the whomping willow, and the second she was clear of my cot I rolled on my side and vomited up the blood replenishing potion into the bucket awaiting my deposit. This was the real problem-while Madam Pomfrey had been close enough on hand to stop the bleeding and heal the smaller cuts, every time she tried to give me a potion that would help me to fully recover, my body rejected it within minutes. Wiping my mouth and slumping back on the pillows, I avoided making eye contact with my visitors. James made it disappear with a flick of his wand.

“Maybe you’re allergic to one of the potions ingredients?” Lily suggested. This was not their first visit, they’d spent most of Sunday afternoon with me. Lily had already apologized for putting me in this situation, and right before I could assure her that I was fine, I returned another potion. Today I had fared no better. 

“Maybe he’s secretly immortal,” Sirius joked, unaffected by my initial glare. “I mean, I overheard Minnie and Professor Flitwick talking about your condition and they said that without enough blood to keep your heart and brain intact you should’ve died Saturday night.”

_ Wonderful. I’m a zombie. _ I blinked dully at him.

“So there’s not enough blood in him to keep everything working, and he can’t ingest any potions that would help?” James reiterated, his eyes wide behind his spectacles. “Then-”

“How the hell are you alive?” Remus asked, gazing at me with eyes full of concern.

I shrugged, unable to give much of an answer.

Oh yeah, another side effect to Snape’s little spell: I couldn’t talk. One of the larger cuts had been across my throat, furthering my speculation that I’d been attacked by a broad, invisible sword. It had healed on the outside, but I suspected there had been some amount of internal damage that, without the healing effects of the numerous amounts of potions I was rejecting, had yet to recover.

To be fair, I didn’t feel alive. I felt like a giant slug, doomed to wither away on a hospital bed, forever unable to drink the potions that would help me return to normal. I had never noticed how pink my hands normally were, but when I looked at them now the contrast was terrifying. My skin was a palid mixture of white, greenish-grey, and I shudder to think what the rest of me looked like. Maybe this was a horrible after-effect of the spell Snape had used; no magic could heal me, spell or potion, and I was going to spend the rest of my natural life in this ugly state of limbo until finally giving out and releasing my ghost. And I would return a ghost, a vengeful ghost to haunt Severus Snape until he kicked the bucket just to get away from me screaming at him in the middle of the night. I’d already decided on popping my head or various limbs through his stomach every time he so much as opened his mouth or tried to converse with someone.  The imagined scenario of flipping the bird while Snape attempted to accept an award or chat up a girl was the only reason I’d smiled in three days.

So, I’d had some time to think while I was in the hospital wing…

“What are you doing?” James asked of Lily, watching as she picked up my cold hand in hers and rubbed her thumb over my grossly pale skin. 

“I can’t believe this. I can’t believe Snape would do this to anyone! What had Roman ever done to offend him?”

Remus answered before James could, “Lily, he’s obsessed with you. That’s why he hates James so much; and for you to parade Roman around the village like you did was too much for him.”

Lily blanched. “I didn’t  _ parade _ him about, he’s not a prized spaniel!”

“I dunno, there might be some Spaniard on his mother’s side,” Sirius replied thoughtfully. “Never really got to know Auntie Sylvia…”

“Spaniel not Spaniard, Padfoot,” Remus explained briefly before turning back to Lily. 

“Moony’s got a point, you did know we were there.” James said quietly, his eyes on me.

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t deny it,” he went on softly. “You made eye contact with me every time you exited a shop, clutching his hand like your life depended on it.”

Lily blushed, but she still looked ready to put up a fight about the implication. “So what if I did know? It’s not like you gave me any choice, Potter!”

James looked at her for the first time, and in his eyes I saw disappointment. “Whatever. I’m done chasing the person you’ve become.” Then he turned to me and gripped my shoulder. “I’ll bring your homework in tomorrow, mate.”

And then he left without another look at Lily Evans. She stared after him but never spoke until I managed to make my hand twitch under hers. Turning to stare at me hopefully, she was met with a sympathetic expression. “What does that even mean?”

_ You’re not the same, Evans. You used to be bright, lively and charming. Don’t let that side of you fade completely, please… _ As I stared silently back at her, I remembered how she was neighbors, and childhood friends with Snape. She thought she knew him, thought he cared more about their friendship than what others thought. And at the end of last year he’d shown her how wrong she’d been. She hadn’t dealt with that emotional break and she was lashing out now because she was still grieving that connection that had been crushed under the heel of Snape’s boot.

I breathed deeply, recognizing that  _ this _ is what it meant to be a Legilimens. To see those clouded areas with perfect clarity, while the rest continued to misunderstand. 

She hadn’t moved on, and she hadn’t moved back. She was in an ugly limbo, just like me, only she was in danger of rotting away on the inside. I was in danger of rotting away on the in and outside, Merlin help me. But still, I wouldn’t have known if I’d gone on making a big mess of things. Only here, in this quiet moment when she was open to my sight...

I was actually reminded of something Crow had told me.  _ Time requires a needle. _

I didn’t realize I’d slipped out of consciousness but the next time I looked around my bed it was to find it deserted, and the moonlight winked at me through the high windows. I knew I wasn’t alone, but I couldn’t see who else was there. Whomping-boy’s bed was empty so it wasn’t him.

Before I could find the strength to reach for my wand and find out the hard way whether I was cut out for nonverbal spells, I heard,  **Boo.**

Almost falling out of bed, I angrily thought  _ WHERE THE BLOODY HELL HAVE YOU BEEN!? _

**I haven’t** **_been_ ** **anywhere, Kid, I ain’t got no feet.**

_ So you’ve just ignored me? _

**Seemed fitting, afterall you ignored me.**

_ I wasn’t going to let her take the hit! _

**She would have been fine. She’d have been on her feet that evening and walking about.**

_ Why? _

**Because she woulda had you, and you woulda had me telling you how to fix her. I can’t tell you how to fix you while you’re bleeding out on the ground. Believe you me, Lily Evans ain’t gonna die because that can o’ grease has a temper tantrum. Quite the opposite, matter of fact…**

_ Why’d you have to freak me out, then? Just start with ‘Hey Roman, I’m gonna help you, don’t worry!’ Instead you- _

**-Are forced to help you another way because you have cotton in your ears and decided to be the battleaxe when I asked for a needle!** I hesitated to respond, well aware that he was right. I didn’t need to disrupt the timeline with some flashy dueling magic, I had to be more tactful. The light shield spell had been something I’d remembered from seeing all of Time, and to my knowledge it wasn’t even mentioned in our textbooks let alone practiced in class. What if someone asked where I’d learned it? Crow wasn’t finished scolding me either.  **You almost died from this. You’re essentially dead. You barely have enough blood in your system to keep you going.**

_ So I’ve heard. Why then, am I still alive? _

**You are under my protection. I suppose I could let you die but then I’d have to find another needle and I don’t have the patience for that.**

_ Why aren’t the potions staying down? _

**They keep getting in my way.**

_ I’M VOMITING EVERY HOUR BECAUSE OF YOU!? _

**You’re LIVING every hour because of me! You know what-** there was an echoing snap in my head and the next thing I knew I was back in the sandlands. Crow stood in all his under five foot glory, still balding, still squat. I had the thought that if he curled up he’d resemble a quaffle. “When are you gonna start trusting me ya nincompoop?”

“I do trust-”

“If that were true you would be in Ravenclaw tower. As it is, while these stupid healers and their stupid snake oils have been trying to poison you,  _ I _ remain, the only thing that’s been able to save you from yourself.” He poked me in the shoulder. (I was sitting like I was still in a hospital bed, he didn’t suddenly grow another two feet.) “Do you understand our situation? You can’t go home without me, and I need you to break free. When you put yourself in danger, you put all of TIME in danger. You are not the hero, you are the surgeon. Your job is to fix, adjust, and you need to have steady hands. The next time you wanna go jumping in front of dark magic, I want you to remember this.” 

With a click of his fingers, I was looking at a scene I had gazed upon before.  A battleground littered with bodies...my friends among the carnage. In the distance, still I could spy a tall man surrounded by an innumerable hoard, all in black robes...several members of the Black family prominent among them; Bella, Cissy, Burgie and Regulus to name a few...and many Slytherins I’d seen in class over the years. Snape stood, holding Lily Evan’s hand from where she remained stubbornly on her knees, head bowed in sorrow as her shoulders shook. The man at the front, the one with the cruel eyes, he pointed his wand at me, and shot a stream of green light over my shoulder. This time I didn’t turn; the image of the killing curse striking my father would forever be carved into my memory. I didn’t need to see it twice. 

“Say it, Kid.”

I grit my teeth stubbornly, even as the vision faded around me and I was back in the hospital wing, glowering at the dark. Only this time, instead of simply suspecting that someone else was in the wing, I could actually hear the steady breath of someone slumbering nearby. Had one of my ‘friends’ sat vigil in case I kicked the bucket in the dead of night? My eyes adjusted as I continued to leer about the room, finally spying the figure at my side. My other senses began to kick in to try and identify the person, and as I didn’t immediately smell wet dog I knew it was neither Sirius or Remus. 

**Say it.**

Instead of a boy in desperate need of cologne or some other form of deodorant, I detected some type of perfume. It was several moments before I recognized the scent as citrus. 

**Say it. And mean it this time.**

I frowned at the girl sleeping with her head rested on my bed, her hand inches from where my own lay. I hadn’t recognized her attention as  _ attention _ , but I couldn’t fathom what I had done to capture her interest. I’d only blamed her for my situation for weeks. 

**Kid!**

Wondering about an entirely new topic by that point in time, I earnestly thought,  _ I’m not in control. _

  
  
  
  



	25. Castle of Glass

After my miraculous recovery, anyone who knew about the incident, i.e. the entire school, would either gaze at me in wonder and awe or skirt the space around me as if I was going to suddenly lash out.

So business as usual, then.

The next several weeks following the incident nothing terribly strange or alarming occurred. Though technically, James made a point of reaching out to me as though I were as close to him as Sirius had always been. And he wasn’t yearning after Lily with every breath. Sirius told me he actually had a study date with Mary a few times, and he sounded almost apologetic, as though James should’ve asked me for permission. Which was false—whatever had risen betwixt me and Mary McDonald had faded long ago. As for me, while I never actively sought out company, I also never had a moment alone other than in dreams. In classes it was one of the Gryffindor boys, Alice or Zabini—who would also find me at mealtimes just to chat about nothing. Then in the evenings it was Damocles, Pan and occasionally Dork, who told me, “That was noble, what you did. Risking your neck for Evans, being what she is and you being who you are.”

I guess that was her way of trying to amend all the nasty things she’d said to me over the years. If she kept that up I might even consider calling her Meadowes. In the time leading up to the Christmas break, all the girls in school, or at least the ones I was aware of, starting acting a little...strange. The only normal one was Alice, who explained to me very patiently that Slughorn was hosting a party of sorts, and all of his favorite students had been encouraged to bring a date.

“Apparently a few famous people are going to be in attendance and Slughorn’s promised to put in a good word for any and every student that goes. Sort of a gateway to upper society, if you will. Frank has already promised to make sure I get introduced to Celestina Warbeck.” she smiled, happy with her life and love, while something was already stirring in my brain.

“Who else is in Slughorn’s little club?” I asked, just to confirm.

“Um, I know Amos Diggory is...and Regulus Black, Avery, Lily Evans, Damocles Belby, Dorcas Meadowes...erm, I think-” just as she was about to hit her speaking stride, we were interrupted by the  bell, signaling the end of lunch. "-damn. We'd better get to Alchemy."

"Yes, I'd rather not get shouted at by a six hundred year old woman."

Madam Flamel, while extremely knowledgeable and more than capable of teaching the subject, was the scariest teacher I'd ever had while at Hogwarts, and that includes the professors daring enough to take on the cursed DADA job. She was so quiet when she moved, she could practically sneak up on anyone and then scare the living daylights by speaking suddenly. She got angry at Sirius the other day [ _for being his usual, smart-aleck and disruptive self_ ] and scolded him for ten minutes. _Granted, most of it had been in French, but we spoiled and tutored kids got the gist_.

As I opened the door and then followed Alice into the classroom, I felt a familiar tugging sensation and then after a pop I was standing alone in a corridor. It was not a Hogwarts corridor, but I was definitely in a castle type place--the view out the nearest window confirmed that straightaway.

 _Crow_!

**Wha-at?**

_WARN ME!_

**Oh yeah. You're about to change timelines.**

_I NOTICED._

**Then why'd I have to warn you?**

Growling in frustration and glancing around for some kind of clue as to why he'd brought me there, my eyes were drawn to the window. It might have been because it was right beside me, or it might have been the sunlight shining through it…or possibly the human sized hole and the pieces of broken glass glinting across the roof.

_Don't tell me…_

**Not what you might think, but yeah, you have to follow that glass.**

_Of course I do._

I pushed out the jagged remains and stepped onto the roof, my movements cautious but surprisingly quick as I walked along the trail of broken glass. Had I not been furious with the deity residing in my pocket or distracted by wondering why someone would jump through a window and run around on the roof of a castle approximately 8 or 9 floors off the ground--I might've noticed how Ilvermorny was a well-designed and beautifully crafted structure. I might've seen how, in comparison, Hogwarts had a somewhat gloomy exterior.

But I was distracted, therefore I didn't notice.

The trail led to the edge of the slanted rooftop, and luckily I spotted who I'd been sent to aid, I'd rather expected to be turret hopping for a few minutes. But instead of the slight figure of my sister at a younger age, I was staring at the hunched figure of a boy.

_Um._

**Talk to him.**

_I thought the deal was getting to see my sister on these visits!_

**The deal is you interact as I need you to interact and on occasion you get family time. Talk. To. Him.**

Before I could figure out a good way to make myself known without scaring him, he lifted his head and turned a pair of glowing golden eyes on me. I instantly thought of Remus and knew this guy was a werewolf. A crying werewolf. And yet, for someone who had just jumped through a window, he bore no cuts on his skin or had pieces of glassing sticking out in strange places. However, I did spot a few stragglers in his wild hair.

"What are you doing out here?" when he spoke, I spotted fangs where his incisors should've been. Remus didn't have that.

"Obviously, I'm out for a walk. What are you doing out here?"

"Out for a…are you crazy, man?"

"Says the fellow with glowing eyes and pointed teeth in the middle of the afternoon," I replied frankly.

His hand flew to his mouth and inspected his fangs as though he hadn't been previously aware, and let out a soft whine as he confirmed my words. "Oh no…no it's too late-!" And then he let loose a feral roar. Forget werewolf, he was probably werelion or weretiger or werebear--"I can't! I can't! I-" He lurched backwards, effectively launching himself off the slanted castle roof and likely would've bashed his head in upon landing on the mountainside.

Except I was there. And I'd seen enough blood in my short but horrific lifetime. I seized the front of his robes and yanked him back until he was on sure footing again. "Not today, skippy."

"WHY!" he howled in my face. Growing up with Burgie as my aunt, I knew a thing or two about getting yelled at, but at least she had the decency to do it without fangs, glowing eyes and dog breath.

"Because dying is pointless!" I yelled back, feeling that volume was the way to break through his density.

He whined again and seemed to go limp in my grasp. "M-my death is p-pointless, yeah, no one would care if I left. N-nobody, and especially n-not h-h-her…"

I shut my eyes. Of course this was about a girl. "Forget her!"

"I can't! She's my heart, breath and soul I can't live without her!" The werewolf began to writhe, as though he could wiggle himself to death. I didn't need him to explain, the whole thing was seared across his forehead. Boy meets girl, boy loves girl, girl loves different boy, girl rejects boy, boy tries to off himself to escape the pain. _Oh shit_. When I touched on the pain part of this tragic love story, I accidentally felt what he was going through and suddenly, dying sounded like a very good idea.

**Work through it, Kid, that's not what's meant to happen.**

_Can you feel this?_

**You mean the agonizing shredding, burning, stabbing, exploding terror and depression crushing every nerve? Yeah, I get the idea.**

_Why does it hurt so badly?_

**It's heartbreak times a thousand deaths, because his kind feel it in a deeper way. Magicfolk don't often find their soulmate, partner or what have you but werewolves seek them out, meditate on them, and once found they literally cannot stand to live without them. Unfortunately for Jonathan here, you can't allow him to die.**

_Why is he important?_

**Ya gonna have to trust me on this one.**

"Let me die, please!" Jonathan was crying again, hanging from the grip I had on his robes. "I can't do it, I can't stand this anymore!"

No wonder he jumped through glass, what he was feeling inside was nothing compared to a few cuts. "Jonathan, listen to me," I said as steadily as I could.

He wailed, tears falling freely from his eyes. "No! No, I can't I can't please! I need to die!"

Some voice in the back of my head that sounded suspiciously like Jules said, _Dude. Get a grip_ _and grow a pair_ _._

Not my usual style, but maybe it's what was necessary. I tossed him back towards the castle, onto the spine of the rooftop. He yelped when he landed on his stomach, but lay limply, as if hoping I was about to finish the job. "Jonathan!" he looked at me, kinda-he looked at my shoes.

"N-no one calls me that," he said shakily.

"What do they call you?"

"Gunner," he replied after a pause. By then his eyes had risen to my knees. "I've never told anyone at school my real name was Jonathan. How did you know my name?"

"The grumpy voice in my head told me," I said without thinking. I was just glad he'd stopped whining and screaming.

His eyes snapped on mine at that. "You're a werewolf too?"

I raised my eyebrows and shrugged. "Yeah, man. And I know how excruciating rejection is." _I literally just felt it. It sucked_.

"You've been rejected?" He frowned up at me, and thanks to Legilimency I got to hear how he couldn't believe anyone would turn down a lifetime with me. _Thanks, I think_. "How are you still here?" he gasped shakily. "Are you like an angel of death to take me away? Is that why your eyes aren't glowing?" _Must be a full moon tonight_.

"Not quite. I'm more like the angel of don't you dare throw your life away because of some dame."

Jonathan squinted, wrinkling his nose. "That's a mouthful."

"The point is, you need to live." I was struck by an idea. He already believed I was a ghost or something anyway so I added, "Don't make my mistakes. There's other ways to heal this hurt, to fill your life and you shouldn't abandon those who care for you already just because one person can't see the value in you."

He began to push himself onto his feet. "What happened after you died, then?"

I sighed, trying to put out a wave of regret, but at best it might've been a shiver of disappointment. "That pain coursing through your veins right now…my family, my friends, they all felt that but times infinity."

**That's excessive.**

_Hey, he thinks I'm an angel, which doesn't exist._

**Actually…**

_What_!

**Kidding. They're not my division.**

"Would you really do that to your family?" I asked, as Jonathan had gone very quiet.

He sniffed and rubbed at his eyes. "I got three sisters," he muttered.

"Nice."

"And six brothers," he added, sniffing hard until he made a gross snorting noise.

"Wow." _Who's excessive now?_

**I'd hate to be his in-law.**

_What does that have to do with anything?_

Crow didn't reply other than some weird cackle.

"They don't deserve this…specially the younger ones…I gotta do better than this. I got three younger brothers at school right now… they're waiting for me in the woods…we like to run as a pack with the other wolves in school…" he wiped at his nose, eyes and took a shuddering breath. "I won't abandon them."

_I did not think it'd be that easy._

**Oh you talked him back from the edge, sure, but he's gonna do some major damage later on. But for now, he'll be okay.**

_Wait, what?_

And with another soft pop, I was walking into Alchemy behind Alice, taking my usual seat beside Regulus, and trying to decipher Madam Flamel's French accent along with everybody else.

 

————

 

I didn’t have the space to think about the American werewolf until dinner, where I could finally permit my thoughts to run free. I couldn’t imagine being so heartbroken that death would be a more viable option—yes I’d experienced his pain but I hadn’t been the rejected one. I glanced around the great hall, my gaze finding Mary, Lily, Alice, Pan, even Dork and I felt nothing.

_Am I dead inside?_

**No. I’ve checked.**

_Did you do something to me—because I belong to another time and shouldn’t waste my time on any of them-?_

**Now that’s an idea! But no, I—**

“What do you think you’re doing?” I was hit with the scent of citrus and then the seat beside me was filled by none other than Zabini.

Gesturing at my untouched dinner plate I said, “I’m eating.”

She pointed one perfectly manicured finger in my face. “Don’t lie, I saw you eying your little girlfriends. Well, that’s going to have to stop from tonight onward.”

I was torn between denying I had any girlfriends and asking what the hell she meant by that. I settled for, “Why’s that?”

She arched an eyebrow. “Well, as my date to Slughorn’s party, the only girl you ought to be thinking about is me.”

I frowned in confusion, wracking my memory for a moment before saying, "I never asked to go with you to Slughorn's party."

"No you didn't, which is why I'm telling you now; you're escorting me, and you should only look at me from now on." Zabini wasn't being bossy; she spoke with a certain confidence that both intrigued and frightened me. I think I knew then that she wouldn't accept my refusing her but I also didn't want to roll over and accept it.

"What makes you think I'd take you anywhere? I barely walk with you from Alchemy to Potions." _If walking with you currently means speed walking out of your reach for six floors_.

She giggled sweetly and patted my leg, which sent a few jolts through my nervous system. "Pretend all you want, but you and I both know there are places you'd love to take me."

 _She's right_ , I told Crow. _I'd like to take her out to the Black Lake and push her in._

**Sounds like true love ta me.**

I grimaced at her and shook my head. "I'm not going to that party. Nothing you say or do will change my mind."

"Is that a challenge, Roman?" she asked silkily.

"More of a declaration."

She smiled, took my face in her hands and kissed me. I didn't immediately pull away, mainly because she was stronger than she looked, but also because I actually felt something. Something I'd very much like to feel again in the near future.

And it absolutely terrified me.

**Yup. True love.**

_Shut up_.

 

\--

 

"-can't believe the insanity that went into planning for that day! I mean we've got apparition lessons that same morning, a chance, nay a small window to pop on down to the village to find something decent to wear and then that gives us all what, an hour possibly two to prepare-" Marlene was talking. Again. Since her breakup with Bartholomew Smith, she had to find ways to express herself to anyone who would listen and Lily really did try. But nowadays all she wanted to talk about was the day Slughorn had chosen to host his little Christmas party. It wasn't the first time he'd thrown one, but Lily sensed that because they were all a bit older, and that much closer to graduation, her peers felt it appropriate to place all focus and hopes into the exclusive event. You couldn't actually get in unless you were one of his favorites or accompanied by one of his favorites, and for a man who believed in excess he was quite picky when it came to students. Lily had already promised she'd attend, but that only added to the pressure of inviting a date.

And while she was determined to go with someone in whose company she could enjoy herself, she couldn't stop thinking about Potter…who had not spoken to her since Roman had been in the hospital wing. And that had been many weeks ago…she ought to be relieved that he'd stopped pestering her, right? So why couldn't she get him off her mind..? Potter with his stupid hair and his stupid smile and his stupid… _Ugh. Just think about something else,_ she told herself with a little shake of her head.

Distantly she heard Marlene say, "I know! Shocking, to say the least but completely unbelievable! So then I said-"

Speaking of Roman, maybe she could ask him to go with her. He wouldn't try anything weird, make inappropriate jokes and she could speak freely with him. And since Snape was suspended until after the holidays, he'd be safe from another attack… Yes, she convinced herself that Roman was a safe bet. It didn't hurt that he had all the handsome looks of Sirius without the arrogance, and also the quiet nature of Regulus without the dark magic fascination… And yet, she'd seen glimpses of the real Roman…and he was sassy as hell.

Maybe in spending more time with him she could uncover more of the real side of him, because he was so different from what everyone had expected him to be…was that all a lie or for some kind of protection…and if so, from what?

She glanced towards the Ravenclaw table to try and pick him out and nearly choked on her food. Remus, who was sitting beside her, thumped her on the back as a precaution until she waved him off. "I can breathe."

"You sure?" he asked kindly.

"No." Lily pointed at the Ravenclaw table. "Look."

Remus followed her finger with a blank expression, and then his eyes widened slightly. Marlene had broken off her daily saga to have a look and then she was tapping Mary and Peter on her sides to turn as well. "Why that little traitor," she said indignantly.

Remus elbowed Sirius at last. "Look at Roman."

"Why?" Sirius asked, squinting through the sea of students. "Is he getting attacked by another Slytherin?"

"Sort of…"

When he caught sight of his cousin, whose mouth had been glued to that wench from Slytherin. _Zither? Zatana? Zabini!_ Sirius made a noise of disgust. "I don't want to see that! Look away!" He turned his head to address the rest of them. "To be completely honest, I'm surprised it's taken them this long."

"What?" Lily gasped. "How long have they been seeing each other?"

"Not 'them' as in Zabini and Roman," Sirius explained. "'Them' as in the girls from pureblood families who know that my cousin is the oldest son of the Black family this generation, and thus will inherit everything my family has to offer. It's a power play. I expected Henriette Fawley, Sabrina Flint, Tabitha Macmillan, even Clarity Selwyn or Katherine Rosier I'd have thought would have made some bid by now…"

"Is that what Twycross was doing a few weeks ago?" Marlene asked, reminding them all of those few days where Roman and Pandora apparently had a relationship.

Sirius shook his head. "Twycross is too pure for that kind of thinking. Whether or not they were truly involved, she wouldn't look at Roman and think of the status he could offer her. Zabini on the other hand…I guess she's always been a bit of a dark horse."

"Meaning?" asked Mary skeptically. Lily remembered when her friend had nursed a secret crush on Roman back when he still went by Lux, but she seemed to be almost over him now.

"Well she is a pureblood, but her family's poor. Well, her father is, anyway," Sirius sighed. "Zabini and her mother I imagine are used to a certain lifestyle, and if she can land my cousin, she's set for life."

"Isn't part of his inheritance owed to you?" Peter asked through a mouthful of potatoes.

"Not anymore," he said with a chuckle. "Not unless my parents die without fixing their will first."

"What about your older cousins?" Marlene asked, leaning forward to get a better view of Sirius. "They get an inheritance, too?"

He coughed. "Well, in traditional terms, they have a dowry that's given to their husbands at marriage…and then they're the new family's problem."

Lily, Mary and Marlene all raised their eyebrows and frowned down the table at him simultaneously. "Wow."

Sirius tried to recover. "I don't agree with that way of thinking, obviously! Everything my family stands for can go-"

"So Zabini's a gold digger, is what you're saying," Remus said, going back to the original topic. "That's why she's running her hands through his hair and-" sitting beside her, Lily could feel him shudder. "Ugh. I didn't need to see that either."

"I told you to look away!" Sirius said dramatically.

 

—

 

**You’re about to switch.**

_Again?_

**He’s expecting you this time. Don’t ask too many questions.**

_Who’s expecting me?_

**Here you go.**

The next thing I knew I was standing on the edge of the sea. Quite literally, I was perched upon a rocky outcrop gazing into a cave hidden by the high tide and the cliff hanging over it. But the tides were beginning to ebb. I think Crow sped up the time a little bit because I blinked and the tide was low, and I was no longer alone on the rock.

“It’s been a long time, Roman,” said Regulus calmly. His voice was a bit deeper than the last time I’d heard it. How many years had passed?

“Indeed. How long since we last spoke?” I asked, trying to sound indifferent.

“Well, you look about 17 now, so I suspect almost three years have passed since I saw you like this,” he spoke with such certainty, I knew he was aware that I was a mere remnant of time. Glancing down, I spotted the house-elf Kreacher, practically hugging my cousin's leg. "You sure this is the place?" Regulus asked him.

"It's here alright," I answered, remembering something Crow had shown me, over a year ago now. While I had no idea why Regulus would come to this spot three years in the future, I knew it was the right place for whatever he was looking for. Blame it on Legilimency or paranoia or the mark on my arm, but I could tell that this place, or the cave up ahead, was dangerous.

"How do you know?" Older Regulus asked.

"You can taste the dark magic from here," I said indifferently. "Are we going to stand in the sea spray all night or did you have a plan?"

"Kreacher?"

The old elf grabbed my cloak and with a loud CRACK, the three of us were standing at the edge of a pool, I assumed within the cave. Older Regulus could probably apparate on his own by now, but elf magic had always been able to get away with things that wizard magic could never manage. Having Kreacher there probably saved us a load of grief, but I didn't comment.

I withdrew my wand and muttered, " _Lumos_!" squinting as the dark space was illuminated suddenly. The water was dark and foreboding, but Reg was already working on finding a way to cross it. Kreacher held his robes and led him around the edge, saying, "Mustn't touch the water, Masters."

I wanted to ask why, but Crow had said no questions. Knowing I was in the future, I could understand why. But still…

**If you touch the water, they'll wake up.**

_What will?_

**The dead.**

That ominous announcement brought me back to my first ride on the Hogwarts express, where a young Sirius and James had debated whether flatulence could wake the dead…

**Maybe think of something a bit more appropriate for this situation?**

_Maybe mind your own thoughts._

**I'm in your head, it's all I got, Kid.**

"Coming?" I looked up and saw that Regulus had conjured a boat from somewhere. He had already helped Kreacher board and was looking back at me expectantly. Within minutes we were moving across the black water, which did not ripple even as the boat glided along. It was rather like sliding across ice or glass. Our destination was the center of the pool, or given the size of it I guess lake was a more accurate description, the small island sticking up out of the glassy surface. The only reason I'd give it a second look was the greenish glow it was giving off.

"He's not exactly subtle, is he?" Reg scoffed from the bow.

I didn't know who he was talking about, but I snorted derisively to give off the impression that I did. "All the better for us, I suppose."

He grimaced but did not comment. The boat had at last come to the little island and the three of us stepped off, careful again to not disturb the surface of the black water. Kreacher looked nervous now, as his beady eyes stared at the thing giving off the green light. It was a basin of sorts, of an old design and did not belong in the middle of a cave under a cliff beside the ocean, yet here it was.

Regulus raised his wand and waved it over the basin, which I now realized contained a strange liquid, and at its bottom was a locket. " _Evanesco_ ," but nothing happened. He tried other things, like transfiguring it to water, or firewhiskey, even pudding, but the potion wouldn't budge. I even tried sticking my wand in the basin, to try and retrieve the locket without having to do what I was slowly beginning to realize we might have to do. My wand couldn't even pass the rim of the basin, and I exchanged a glance with Reg before Kreacher pointed out the little goblet resting nearby.

Reg squared his shoulders. "Right. I'll do it."

Kreacher gave a strangled sort of grunt. "No Master Regulus! You mustn't!"

"Kreacher, we've talked about this, and I'm not letting you go through this again."

 _Again_?

**He was used as a guinea pig; made your cousin furious when he found out it was for this but it provided him with a location if anything.**

_Why is the locket so important?_

**Just go along with this. But remember, Regulus has to survive this.**

_And me?_

**I'm protecting you.**

_Like you protected me against the evil healing potions and spells from Madam Pomfrey?_

**I told you they were getting in my way!**

"No, I'm doing it." I said, snatching the goblet from Reg's hand and swigging it down without another word.

"Roman!" Reg looked scandalized at my action, but I was already dipping the goblet for another round. "I can't send you back if you're-"

"If I'm what?" I snapped. "In a weakened state? At least I won't get suspended for this, eh?" And downed another few gulps of the potion. It was dry, and I think it would've been sweeter had I been forced to drink lava as with the third round I felt as though every nerve in my body was being spliced in half. It was around the fifth cup that a strange thing happened.

No, not strange.

Horrible. Vile. Cruel.

I had never been so aware of the Dark Mark on my arm as I was then. I knew logically I was in a cave with my cousin and his house elf, and I was drinking some potion that could've been poisoned for all I'd known initially. But my eyes showed me Sirius and James and Remus. They all had their wands pointed at my chest, and their eyes were filled with disgust and hate.

"Please, I didn't have a choice!" I heard myself cry. "I did it to save you, to save all of you."

"You should've died, Roman!" James snarled.

"Rather than betray your friends!" Sirius said in agreement, his eyes filled with a cold fury.

"You know what we have to do, don't you, Roman," Remus stated with a calm that sent chills down my spine.

I was shaking. There was a wetness in my eyes that I couldn't blink away and a certain pressure in my nose like a sneeze that refused to happen. It was several moments before I realized that I was afraid. Afraid of my cousin, my first friend and the boy I never wanted to call friend but now welcomed whole-heartedly though I would never admit it. And because they knew what I'd done, who I'd elected to follow…they were going to kill me…and I deserved it.

I couldn't shut my eyes as all three of them hit me with a green spell, but rather than meet a sudden and merciful death, they changed before my eyes to three other people. One I had never actually met, one I only remembered, and one I would do everything to meet again. My siblings. My real siblings. Julianne, Jacob and Seraphina. Jules was just as she was when she'd left me with my regained memories and firm convictions. Probably 17, 18 years old, red tennis shoes and torn muggle clothes. Jacob was as I remembered him, about 4 years old, with buck teeth and a shock of golden hair with wide blue eyes. I'd never met my littlest sister Seraphina, but I'd seen her through Jules, so she appeared to be about 10, with long dark hair like mine, expressive brown eyes like Jules', and we all shared the same nose. They stood before me, as cold and infuriated as my friends had been. The younger ones had no wands, and Jules didn't even bother drawing hers, though I could see it sticking out of her sock. They simply stood glaring at me.

"Do you know the pain you've put our family through?" Little Jacob said angrily. "How many times mom and dad cried through the night because they couldn't find you? And where were you?"

"You could've come home." Jules said, her voice quiet. "But you chose your rich family over your real one. You're not our brother. Not anymore. Stay with your rich family and rot for all I care."

I wanted to shout back, to deny and comfort them but I couldn't this time. I couldn't seem to speak, all I could do was feel their hatred for me, their desire for my endless suffering. If that's what they wanted then I would give it willingly…

**Kid!**

_They want me dead… They all want me dead… Everything I've done and will do is for nothing they hate me!_

**Kid snap out of it!**

_KILL ME!_

**Someday, maybe but right now you have to open your eyes.**

_I don't want to, I want to die!_

**Ελιά Δαβίδ ρωμαϊκός Μαύρος άνοιξε τα μάτια σου!**

 


	26. Trust Issues

 

 I opened my eyes…seconds before vomiting a green substance all over the ground. From somewhere nearby I heard a noise of general disgust and sympathy.

“You’re either the luckiest man I ever knew, or-” Regulus stopped himself with a shrug. “You’re safe now, and that’s what’s important.” He vanished my sick and watched me glance around before getting to my feet. "We're on the cliff. I wasn't sure how far I was allowed to move you, but I'm glad you didn't just disappear. I don't know when you came from exactly, but I don't think it's ever appropriate for you to turn up inebriated with the Drink of Despair."

"Is that what that was?" I asked, or tried to. My throat was dry and my words likely came out as more of a husk of sound than an actual sentence. Kreacher snapped his fingers and offered me a goblet he'd likely summoned from Black Manor--it had the family crest engraved into it, but the silver cup was filled with water which I gulped down right away. "Thank you."

"You saved Master Regulus," the elf stated without any hint of sarcasm.

I almost smiled but I think I was still feeling the aftereffects of the potion. "Are you alright, Reg?"

"Me? I got the easy part, what about you?" he asked incredulously.

Grimacing I replied, "I'm not gonna lie to you, I did not care for that. Hopefully it was worth my while: did you get it?"

Regulus held up the locket, which was gold with a snake curved into the letter 'S' on the front. "Taken, and replaced with a copy." He looked me over and shook his head.

"What?"

"I just…I didn't expect to get this version of you. That means you've known this whole time…what's the date you've come from?"

"December 17th, 1976," I replied easily. _Maybe I'll go back late and miss the party._

**Nope. She'll kill you, and I need you alive.**

_Dangit._

Older Regulus chuckled at my answer. "I see. So it's only the start for you."

"Start of what?"

"You'll figure it out. I'll see you soon, Roman, at least I hope."

"What do you mean?"

**I said no questions!**

_But-!_

Older Regulus's expression changed suddenly and he was frowning over my shoulder, shoving the locket in his pocket quickly. "Who is that?!"

I turned to look, and that is when the tugging sensation returned to take me back to the past. Instead of a wind-ridden clifftop I was standing in the corridor, wearing clean dress robes, and waiting on-

“Thank you for waiting.” Zabini approached me where I stood, still looking over my shoulder out the window, wondering who older Regulus had seen three years from now. He’d never looked alarmed a day in his life, who in the world could bring that expression out of his aristocratic features? “Did I mention how handsome you look tonight?” She reached up and pushed a stray hair out of my face. A cursory glance at my robes revealed that Reg or maybe Crow had seen fit to clean up my appearance—maybe he’d done it while vanishing my vomit. “Ready?”

She certainly was: her hand had perched on my forearm with no intent to take flight anytime soon. Placing my hand over hers, relieved that she was warm and real and not some hallucination sent to cause me misery, I escorted her to the room Slughorn had elected to host his fancy party in. (He'd complained loudly to Dumbledore about how his office was 'too small'.) _Maybe it'd seem bigger if his gut didn't take up half of it_.

By the time we'd arrived the room was packed with people, which for some reason made Zabini very happy. I was just frowning around at the decorations which were grossly overused, when Slughorn threw his weight around to greet Zabini, ignoring me as easily as though I were invisible.

"Fashionably late as usual, Allura," he said warmly, shaking her hand. "There are a few people I'd love to introduce you to, if you'll come with me, please!" He began to pull her through the crowd of people, but she felt my resistance, or lack of movement, and turned her large brown eyes on me.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I shrugged. "I just don't like meeting people."

Part of me expected her to tell me to man up and get over it, but instead she gave me an oddly understanding smile. "Don't go anywhere, I'll only be a minute."

She allowed Slughorn to steer her to the names and faces he'd herded or coerced into attending tonight, while I felt myself move through the room like a shadow until I found a window to lean against. The cold glass was a welcome sensation when faced with the heated room filled with people. I wanted to digest what I'd just seen in the future, three years from now, but I also didn't want to think about it. Three years…1979…that was the year Jules and I were born. Had I been sent there now because I wouldn't be able to later? What would happen to me in three years? Would I just pop out of existence?

"You've selected an interesting time to have a serious contemplation, Mr. Black," a voice said from directly to my right.

"Am I not allowed to contemplate seriously? Will I be asked to leave, lest I ruin the ambiance, sir?" I gave the Headmaster a sideways glance.

He gave a small chuckle, "I shouldn't think so, else I'd be banned from the festivities as well."

Sounded nice enough, but Crow's warning about his collecting people was pounding in my head. That, and Crow's burning disgruntlement was weighing heavily on my conscious. I briefly wondered what Albus Dumbledore had done to piss off the God of Time. "Oh? What burdens your mind I would wonder, but then I recall it's none of my business." _HINT. HINT_.

"I wonder about a great many things, Mr. Black," the headmaster began vaguely. "I wonder about my choices, my students, the wizarding world in general…"

"Is that all?"

"To name a few," Dumbledore looked at me then around at the crowd of people. I'd discovered that about twenty percent were students, the rest being big names in the wizarding community. I actually spotted Abraxas Malfoy chatting with a witch who'd published a number of cook books that had become wildly famous. I knew this random fact because Kipsy liked using her recipes, but I couldn't remember her name. Abraxas' son Lucius had been recently married to my cousin Cissy, effectively making that the last I'd seen of my snobbish cousin. "Where did Ms. Zabini run off to, I wonder?"

I'd forgotten Dumbledore was there for a blissful moment. "She'll turn up."

"I don't doubt it. She seems content with her choices," _Here we go._ "But she's always been very clever, very ambitious…Roman," _Oh look, he's trying for the first name again_ , "I wonder if I could bother you to come down to my office before the start of break?"

The train left tomorrow morning, so he either meant tonight or before breakfast. I wasn't sure which I'd prefer.

**Neither.**

_Right._

"Is my schoolwork unsatisfactory?" I asked innocently.

"No, but there is a matter I feel we should discuss in private," he replied plainly.

"Would this secret matter have anything to do with my recent recovery?" From an outside perspective, there was nothing else that was particularly strange about my life. Or so I thought. "Because I'm afraid I have about as many answers for you as I did for the matron, sir."

Dumbledore smiled wanly. "My office, tomorrow morning, if you please." That was definitely a command. I immediately started to wonder what would happen if I defied the school headmaster. _Nothing good_.

I was saved from getting expelled right then and there by Zabini materializing at my side. "There you are! You'll never believe who's here--an actual veela! Come on, you've got to see this!" without a glance at our headmaster she pulled me into the crowd of bodies and robes and strangers, weaving an impossibly complicated route to the other side of the room.

Once we'd paused, still shielded by people I'd never care to know, I glanced around before looking down at my date. "Veela, huh?"

She slid her arms around my neck, eyes sparkling. "Well, you looked ready to melt to the floor with that old man interrogating you. We really ought to work on your expressions, they make you an open book."

I placed my hands at her sides, quirking an eyebrow. "You'd rather have no idea what I'm thinking?"

"I always want to know what you're thinking. I just don't want anyone else to know." She rose to the tips of her toes to give me a rather chaste kiss. "You can lie all you want, but you should always tell me the truth." She kissed me again. "You can mmm-!" I was done listening.

\---

The next morning after breakfast I made my way to where I knew Dumbledore's office to be. Crow had told me since the moment I woke up that it was a terrible, awful, foolish idea and I should ignore the summons. But he refused to tell me why. So I went.

I didn't know the password to the gargoyle but I didn't need it. The headmaster himself was just returning to his office as I reached it, and the statue had already moved aside to allow us entrance. The old man smiled at me and waved me inside. "After you."

I wasn't surprised by the trinkets and books and objects Dumbledore had elected to decorate his office with; the thing that captured my attention about the headmasters office was the wall behind his desk that had every headmaster and headmistress past displayed. I spotted an ancestor (ignoring my adoption for a moment) he had a portrait at Black Manor: Phineas Nigellas Black nodded approvingly at me. "Ah, so you've finally come to your senses, Dumbledore," he said in a smug voice.

"You think so, Phineas?" Dumbledore replied pleasantly as he took to his desk, offering me a seat in a soft armchair.

"Well I don't mean to spoil the surprise, but you're obviously going to make him Head Boy for next year, correct? Ah the blood that runs through his veins, you couldn't find anything better-!"

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Perhaps but that’s not why we're here this morning. Mr. Black, I must ask you if there is anything you feel you should tell me before we begin."

Biting my tongue to keep from saying something Sirius-like, I shook my head. _I've no idea why you want me here exactly so I can't imagine what you think I'd need to say_.

Breathing deeply through his nose, the headmaster said, "Very well… But I want it understood that you can trust me."

Again, when it came from Albus Dumbledore it sounded like a threat. Maybe I was overly suspicious but the phrase sent a chill through me, though I tried to hide it. "Could you make it known what you want from me, sir?"

He sighed. "When I spoke with Mr. Snape before executing his suspension, he told me something strange. Something that has given me cause for great concern, you see he wouldn't stop talking about your arm, and how it was proof that you were dangerous. In his eyes, he was trying to protect Ms. Evans from you, not the other way around… Have you any idea why that might be?"

 _Oh_.

**Yeah! I told you not to come!**

_Sorry. Can I just leave?_

**Yeah sure, if you wanna confirm your guilt!**

_What do I do?_

**It's not my job to bail you out.**

_That's exactly what your job is! You bail me out, I bail you out; we're bailers!_

**Stop panicking, he's waiting for you to respond.**

_What do I say!?_

Crow sighed impatiently. **Do as and what I say**.

I straightened in my chair, gazing levelly at the headmaster. "My arm is dangerous? This arm?" I rolled up my right sleeve and showed Dumbledore a scar left there by Snape's curse. I stood up and pointed to various parts of my body as I talked, my legs, my ribs, my back. "Or maybe here or this scar or this gash that's never going to heal properly. You actually take the words of a crazed student, driven mad by jealousy and believe there is truth in them? We all thought you were going to expel him, and I'm not entirely convinced that you shouldn't still do so. Snape thinks I'm dangerous? I'm not the one slicing up my classmates with spells that don't exist. Did you really ask me to come to your office to talk about the word of the kid who tried to kill me?"

In a flash I caught a glimpse, a very tiny glimpse of Dumbledore's discussion with Snape. I heard him say, "You can't expel me, Professor! If you do I'll…I'll tell everyone about Lupin!"

And then I was back in my own head as Dumbledore's defenses raised again. Had he let me see that or was it just dumb luck?

"I'm sorry for inconveniencing you this morning, Mr. Black." Dumbledore stood up as well gazing steadily at me as though he could hear my every thought, and knew my next course of action. Crow assured me he didn't. "I only wanted to be certain, even if the source of information is flawed. You may go."

I nodded once and left the office swiftly, forced to listen to Crow's endless versions of 'I told you so.'

\-------------

_December 24th, 1976_

The room was lit only by a number of candles, that for some reason saw fit to burn a cold blue. I was standing amidst several men and women, all draped in black hoods, and in some cases full-faced masks, and we were all formed in a wide circle, in the center of which stood the man for whom we'd all sworn allegiance. He wasn't alone either…

"A new recruit has elected to join us today," Lord Voldemort said, smiling like he knew something no one else did. "I should be happy to welcome him among us…provided he can prove he is worthy to fight for our cause…" his eyes glinted maliciously as they leered down at the boy in black robes, and very greasy hair. Ever since my uncomfortable chat with Dumbledore, I realized why he'd been so keen on getting me away from Lily Evans. He must've seen me react to her touching my marked arm…must've known what I was hiding…and figured killing me was the best thing to do. I still had scars from that encounter, the gash on my back would probably never heal completely. Yet here he was, the hypocrite, trying to earn a mark of his own. "You may join our ranks, Snape, if you can hold your own against…" the Dark Lord scanned his many followers in masks and hoods before his eyes found mine. There he probably saw a dark promise of the things I'd like to do to his new recruit, even though Crow swore again and again that I couldn't kill him. "Black. Show Snape what it means to serve me."

I had the feeling that this duel was proving ground for the both of us, as I'd gotten a mark without having to duel another Death Eater--he'd been way too eager to mark me. But I was in a position of power and status…Snape wasn't.

Which meant he had everything to prove.

And I…I wanted payback.

I moved into the circle as Lord Voldemort moved to the edge. "Begin," he hissed softly, so you'd have to be really paying attention to hear it. I was.

 **Strike hard, strike fast**.

I sliced my wand downward and jabbed it in Severus's direction. " _Opprimo!_ " An unseen force shoved him down to the floor face first. A crunching noise informed me I might have broken his nose. He struggled to push himself up but couldn't, settling for aiming his wand at me and firing off a spell without speaking. _Nonverbal spell? Dammit_. The next thing I knew I was hanging upside-down by my ankle. Not entirely sure what the counterspell was, I focused my efforts on hexing the grease out of Snape as the blood rushed to my head. He tried to fire off a few in my direction, but with the literal bird's eye view I had the clear advantage. He had to survive…that didn't mean I couldn't let off quite a bit of steam. I had to fit into the role, after all.

* * *

 

_February 13th, 1977_

"Why Monday? It could have been yesterday, and it would've been perfect!"

"Uh huh."

"I mean, yesterday wasn't even a Hogsmeade trip, but we'd still have the entire day to ourselves."

"Mm."

Zabini sighed dramatically from where her head rested in my lap. "But of course our first Valentine's Day would land on a Monday. And you're taking a thousand classes…"

I was busy writing my DADA essay, as images from the break continuously flashing through my mind as I did so. Hooded figures, forbidden spells, a cruel laugh… "Yep."

"You're not even listening to me, are you?" Zabini waved a hand in my face, causing me to pause in my writing. "Bet you'd pay me more attention if I was naked…" she added dejectedly.

"Doubtful, but you're welcome to go ahead and try," I replied mildly, earning a soft smack to my chest. Smirking, I put down my quill and sat back to get a better look at her pouty face. "Yes?"

"Did you at least buy me a gift?" she whined, trying to gain my pity or guilt, depending on my answer.

She'd get neither, as usual. "Maybe."

"Why not give it to me now instead of forgetting tomorrow?" she proposed hopefully.

I shook my head. "I'm insulted and offended by how little you expect of me."

Zabini raised an eyebrow. "Well, after you didn't get me anything for Christmas, what's a girl to think?"

I winced, and unfortunately she noticed. "The break was…stressful for me. And I thought you made me apologize for that already."

She puffed out her cheeks. "I did. But I don't think you meant it."

I picked up my quill and wrote a few more lines to my essay. "You're probably right."

"Hey!" Sitting up, she snatched the parchment from off the table and sat on the table, tucking one ankle behind the other as she surveyed my work. "Hm. 'Yet through extensive research, or trial and error,'" she read aloud. "'I have found the simple shield charm to be ineffective against several curses and to rely on its protection is to rely on luck.' That's my optimist," she commented sarcastically, holding the parchment over her head when I tried to take it back. "Ah-ah-ah!"

"I still have three more inches to write," I explained, trying to reach for it again, going so far as to stand up but she somehow managed to continue her game of keep-away.

"But your handwriting is smaller than most of the drop-outs just waiting to happen, so you're probably good with what you have," she replied simply, rolling my essay up behind her back and when I went to grab it she kissed me.

I relented…if only to steal it back while her guard was down, and then I pulled away. "Right. I'm finishing this in the tower." I pressed my lips to her forehead as she pouted. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"With my present?" she asked moodily.

"Mhm."

"Are you lying to me?"

"Never." _I might omit certain truths though_ …

* * *

 

_May 21st, 1977_

"It's a bunch of scribbles," I said, failing to even pretend to be impressed. "Moving scribbles."

Sirius shook me by the shoulders. "Just wait until Remus finishes the sketches, it'll go from nonsense to a full map!"

"Of what?" I asked skeptically. The three of us were sitting under the beech tree by the lake, Remus was drawing quietly while Sirius tried to show off what the four Gryffindors had been working on for most of the year. Apparently, due to all the secrets they'd discovered over the years, and the kick they got out of sneaking around the castle, the plan was to create a map of Hogwarts that would move just as the castle and its occupants did. But in the meantime, it looked like Peter's Potion's homework assignment. _Totally useless_.

"Mock all you want," Remus said. "When it's finished, you'll want to use it."

"You mean before or after we graduate in a year?"

"It'll be finished by September!" Sirius declared.

"Where's James?" I asked, if only to change the subject.

Remus and Sirius exchanged a knowing look. "Oh he's busy today."

I wondered if that had anything to do with me finally telling Lily to make good on our bet. "Ah."

"What about Zabini? She's usually hanging on your arm like a leech," Sirius ducked the swing I aimed at his head. "Ooh, I seem to have struck a nerve!"

"Shut up." I said steely. I never expected her to stick around for very long, but it'd been six months now and she hadn't left my side. Yes, there was the nagging suspicion she only liked me because I was rich, but I think deep down part of me hoped I was more than a mountain of galleons to her. In any case, Sirius comparing her to a blood sucking parasite made me angry.

"Of the five of us, I expected Sirius to get a girlfriend first," Remus said from where he sat. "But I suppose his methods aren't cut out for a stable commitment."

That made me laugh, because it was true; Sirius was a shameless flirt, though sometimes he would aim at those out of his reach like Professor McGonagall or that young woman who ran the Three Broomsticks. For his part, Sirius looked offended at Remus's remark. "I beg your pardon, Moony, I'm already in a stable commitment!"

"With someone other than your mirror," I chuckled.

"Oh…well what's wrong with focusing on me? I'm marvelous!"

Whether he thought it or whispered it, I heard Remus say, " _Marvelously imbecilic…_ "

* * *

 

_August 3rd, 1977_

"You idiot."

Regulus grimaced, pressing a cold cloth to his arm, trying not to cry, but I knew he wanted to. I wanted to, when it happened to me. "You should talk," even his voice shook. "Or are you upset that you're no longer the youngest Death Eater?"

"Snape was the youngest, and the most foolish, until you stuck out your arm," I grumbled, pushing his hand and the cloth away to look at the newly burned mark on his arm. His pale skin was red and irritated around the new dark mark, but that would heal in time. I wanted to jump back an hour to stop it from ever happening to my cousin in the first place, but Crow said this was important to the timeline. That didn't mean I had to be happy about it. "You should try soaking it in murtlap essence, the pain dulls quicker that way."

He nodded mutely, his silver eyes glued to his left forearm, apparently it was just sinking in…no pun intended…

"Why did he want you?" I wondered aloud. "He already had me, and Bella…"

"It was Mum's idea…" Regulus admitted quietly. "That way one from each sect of the Black family would represent and bring power to the cause…"

"And you believed her," I finished bitterly.

**He won't be with them long.**

_What does that mean?_

**Trust me.**

Crow had been saying that a lot lately. I had to trust that everything he said, everything he asked me to do, everything I let happen, it was all part of some bigger picture. Sometimes I wondered if that picture was really the best outcome…

* * *

 

_September 1st, 1977_

Regulus and I had spent the remaining days of summer together, either on our own or in meeting with other Death Eaters, occasionally in the presence of the Dark Lord… he was growing stronger, our numbers were swelling, and they were getting restless. After many years of waiting, it struck me that Voldemort was waiting for something. After that discovery I tried many times to look into his mind, despite Crow warning against it. Of course I saw nothing but I caught a glimpse of a boy I thought I'd seen once before in Dumbledore's mind. A Slytherin, young, talented and handsome. Who was he?

I never found out, and soon found myself wrestling across the busy platform for one of the last times as a student. Reg remained close at my side, trying to protect his left arm--he was still in the tender stages of healing and getting roughly checked to the side is not what he needed today. I spotted Sirius and James on the far side of the platform and- "What is your brother wearing?"

Regulus looked around. "Wonderful. He's gone full muggle."

Sirius Orion Black strutted towards the train wearing black leather, a t-shirt with some kind of insignia emblazoned across the front. When he tossed his hair I could've sworn I spotted an earring. I shook my head, "Truly the end is nigh…"

"Talk of the devil," Reg said in an undertone right before Zabini turned up, the crowd parting before her like she was a goddess.

I punched his bicep right as she hugged me. "I missed you so much you wouldn't believe. I have questions, but to start-" she pulled back, staring at my head. "What in the name of sanity have you done to your hair?!"

"I was ambushed one night by my own house elf," I replied, running a hand through my freshly cut hair. Kipsy claimed I looked better if only she could see my face. ("Master's got a missus now, master's got to look nice!")

Zabini stared at me for a long time as though in complete shock. She didn't speak again until we'd boarded the train and settled in a compartment. "It looks good…"

"But?" No one stays that quiet for that long, especially not my girlfriend.

"No it really does, it actually suits you quite well…it's just," she raised a hand to run a hand through my hair, the sensation was odd but nice. "You look different. And I don't mean just the hair: did you always have freckles?"

I flashed back to a particularly sunny excursion to the future that was a brief but thrilling break from my dark summer. "I get them when I'm in the sun too long. They'll fade by November."

She frowned, resting her head on my shoulder as she relaxed against me. "That's a shame. They're cute."

I wondered about Jules for a moment. She had freckles, but did she have them all the time, or were they due to her many days in the sun?

I glanced towards the corridor outside the compartment and spotted Remus and Lily walking past, headed for the Prefect Meeting. Lily wore a shiny, new Head Girl badge. I should probably go to that meeting, but I knew what being a prefect was about by now. Not long after seeing them I saw James walk the same direction, only he glanced into the compartment and for a moment I held his gaze. He glanced at Zabini beside me, and Regulus across from me. Two Slytherins. His eyes flicked back to mine a question plastered across the front of his mind. _Who's side are you on?_

I gave a small shrug in reply. _Mine_.

* * *

 

_October 30th, 1977_

The explosion blew sideways and upwards. I heard Filtch utter words even I could never repeat in the loudest voice he'd ever been able to reach. Seconds later, Sirius and Peter scurried past us in the hall, covered from head to toe in soot and ash, Mrs. Norris on Peter's heel.

Zabini laughed. "Wasn't that your cousin?"

I rested my arm around her shoulders and steered her away from the building chaos. "Never seen those people before in my life."

I never knew what they'd done, or what they tried to do. No one ever found out. All Sirius would say about the event was that it was Peter's fault.

Peter never said a word about it, but we all noticed his irrational fear of cats had increased tenfold.

* * *

 

_December 31st, 1977_

**You should go back inside.**

…

**Kid, you're gonna catch your death out here.**

…

**Roman?**

…

**Kid, you know I don't do well with the silent treatment or whatever this is.**

A million thoughts wanted to run though my head, accusations, or doubts, blaming, self-hate, but I kept my mind as blank as my heart. Maybe if I knelt in the snow long enough I'd freeze myself and wake up with the spring. I already couldn't feel my fingers and legs. I could only stare dully at the tomb I couldn't bring myself to enter.

**You need to get warmed up. The worst is yet to-**

_Why didn't you tell me!?_

**I beg your pardon?**

_I could have stopped this from ever happening! You knew, didn't you? Why did you let this happen!?_

**…You know why.**

I felt that weird pressure around my eyes and nose as wetness began to form there. I knew I could trust Crow, knew that I had to…but I would also know for the rest of my life that he let my father die…

* * *

 

_January 19th, 1978_

I was many things, but I wasn't reckless…anymore. I was in detention that evening with Slughorn and Regulus because we intended to be there. I'd caught a glimpse of that young man I'd seen in both Dumbledore's, and then Voldemort's mind, and of the three of them, I suspected Slughorn would be the easiest from which to extract answers. I asked Reg to come along because he was one of Slughorn's favorites, thus he'd be able to distract the old man while I set to work. After seeing his future version, and how easily he'd accepted me just popping into his presence, I knew that one day, Regulus would know I was slightly possessed by a deity. ( **Not possessed by, simply hosting!** ) The first step towards that future had been revealing to him that I was a Legilimens, and it’s a good thing I did, else he'd have objected to the insane plan we'd hatched.

So there I was, seated at a desk beside Reg, writing lines as Slughorn graded papers, or possibly filled out an owl order for expensive sweets.

 _I will speak with respect to others. I will speak with respect to others_ . I'd written the line at least a hundred times by now. It was a dull repetition, but it was worth it; I'd finally been able to cuss out Snape and tell off Bulstrode for giving my girlfriend long, creepy looks. Slughorn has never been one to tolerate shouting, especially not when he's supposed to be the center of attention, thus I managed to get the walrus angry enough to land me in detention. _I will speak with respect to others. I will speak with respect to others_ . I had been slightly worried that showing a temper would spook Zabini, but if anything, she seemed to admire me all the more. Something about having a backbone... _I will speak with respect to others. I will speak with respect to others_. My story wasn't nearly as exciting as what Reg pulled off. Being a favorite, he had to work extra hard to get into trouble, something that even Slughorn couldn't deny was detention worthy. It was one of the only times you'd remember voluntarily that Reg and Sirius were brothers.

His lines were something to the effect of, ' _I will not sabotage potions class for my own amusement_.'

We wrote with purpose, putting out the vibe that we were truly repentant, but really I was working in another field… Focusing my mind on Slughorn's, I searched his memories specifically for that Slytherin boy…and found him remarkably fast; he'd been a student some thirty years before now and…his name had been Tom…Riddle…I saw him being Slughorn's favorite student, saw him corner the teacher one evening and ask him about…about… _what the hell?_

"Good gracious, is that the time?" Slughorn asked rhetorically, snapping me back to myself. "Well boys, let's see what you've accomplished."

Reg stood gracefully, stalked the length of the room and offered his lines to Slughorn, looking bored. I hopped up with feigned joy and strolled the length of the room before dropping the parchment on Slughorn's desk. "Professor, I had a question for you," I said, wondering what the first thing to pop into his head would be if I asked the same thing Riddle had.

"Indeed?" Slughorn glanced down doubtfully at the dropped parchment with the words, _I will speak with respect to others_ written over and over again.

"Yes, sir, you see Professor Watercress was ranting during class yesterday and said something about Horcruxes. What are those?"

Slughorn stiffened visibly, glancing between Regulus and myself with wide, suspicious eyes. "They are nothing to concern yourself with!" He hissed, very much out of character. But in his mind, I saw the same memory from before, a younger, blonder Slughorn explaining to Riddle in detail what he knew about the subject… "Both of you! You're good boys—you needn't worry yourself over Horcruxes! That is to say, I don't know much about them myself, but I know enough to say that they are not worth your attention! Understood?"

I nodded, and Reg followed my lead looking alarmed at the supposedly soft and jovial professor's behavior. But I wasn't satisfied, because whomever this Riddle fellow was, he occupied the thoughts of two very powerful wizards, and somehow he was connected with Slughorn and these Horcrux things.

And I wanted to know why.

* * *

 

_March 24th, 1978_

The night was calm and the moon was almost full, but not quite. I knew the difference by now. Either way it was perfect for looking at the stars, which I'd discovered to be quite relaxing, not to mention Zabini loved it. Lying at an angle to me she reached for my hand and asked, "…Which one are you named after?"

"My grandfather," I replied facetiously. I knew she'd really wanted to ask which star was 'Alphard', but I appreciated her respect of not breaching that topic. It'd really spoil the mood.

She tapped my chest with our joined hands. "You know what I meant. Which one is Pollux?"

"It's an awful name," I pointed with my free hand. "It's known as the brighter twin." _Take that Jules_. "Right there."

Zabini squinted, her eyes following my finger. "Where's its twin?"

"It's a little harder to see, it's called Castor."

"Is there an evil twin I need to worry about?" she joked.

"How do you know I'm not the evil twin?" I grinned at her expression.

She opted to clear her throat and slightly change the subject. "What constellation is that?"

"Gemini, which is fitting I suppose," I sighed. "I mean, if you believe in all that divination crap."

"I believe it has some merit," she replied diplomatically. "For entertainment purposes." A comfortable silence stretched between us, well I thought it was comfy, but apparently she was getting a little impatient because not five minutes later she said, "Is this all you had planned?"

"This was your idea, m'dear," I reminded her, sitting up and twisting to look down at her. "But I actually wanted to show you something."

She was so cute. At the idea of me showing her something outside, in the open, where anyone could look out the window and see us, even in the silvery glow of the moon her cheeks turned red. "W-what? Out here?"

"Yup. And, just in case," I pecked her lips before getting to my feet.

"In case of what?" she demanded, propping herself up on her elbows.

"There's a good chance you'll run screaming after I show you, so…" Before I could psych myself out, and before she could utter a complaint or one more question, I transformed.

Standing before her on four paws, I waited for her to make a run for it. She stared at the panther in shock, slowly getting to her feet and moved closer cautiously. I'd never been so fully aware of her hands as she reached them towards me. On her left, middle finger she wore a silver serpent ring that coiled around her delicate finger thrice, its eyes were small sapphires; and on her right, ring finger she wore another silver ring I'd given her around this time last year. She loved it and hated it, because it was only visible when we were alone; a little charm I'd placed on it--simple but quite unbreakable. It had the Black family mark on it, like she'd always wanted, but again, she couldn't show it to anyone but me. So she knew, and I knew, but until the time was right, no one else could know.

Finally she reached me in my animagus form and felt along my head, down my neck and spine. I flicked my tail in her direction and she jumped with a small gasp, apparently forgetting I wasn't a statue or stuffed. I transformed back and gathered her in my arms. "Only five people know I can do that, including you."

She blinked up at me, and I knew she was still at a loss for what she was supposed to think. It's not every day your significant other turns into a panther and back again. "…When did you…how did you…why didn't you tell me sooner?"

She was puffing her cheeks out again, she did that when she was feeling put out and angry all at once. I tilted her head up to look into her eyes. "I had to be certain, first."

"Certain of what?" she whined. "That you could trust me?"

"I know I can trust you. I just wanted to be certain that I loved you."

Her eyes grew as round as the nearly full moon high above us. "You love me?"

I wiggled my eyebrows. "It can't be that surprising, after all you get confessions about once a week."

"Well yes, but they're all nameless idiots. You're you…say it one more time."

"Why?"

"I want to be sure."

I smiled and declared, "I love you, Allura." and she nearly fainted right there in my arms. I didn't need to hear her say it back, though she would for days on end. I'd waited this long on purpose because I was waiting for the day she had it firmly set in her mind. Waited until she knew with all her heart, without messy words getting in the way, that she loved me too.

* * *

**A/N** **: Leave a comment if you're still reading!**


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